THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEMING
it ERG ESENWEIN fcT
\ ,i: CARNAGEY
UC-NRLF
$B 2sa nao
iHiimm«^uf
DBOOK OF ilNSTRUCTION
i:jmjic s
"life
itiiiilli
Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive
in 2007 witli funding from
IVIicrosoft Corporation
littp://www.arcliive.org/details/artofpubliGspeakOOesenriGli
UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME
THE WRITER'S LIBRARY
Edited by J. Berg Esenwein, a.m., litt.d
WRITING THE SHORT-STORY
THE STANDAKD MANUAL FOR AMA-
TEUB AND PROFESSIONAL WRITERS
BT J. BERG ESENWEIN
457 pp. Cloth; $1.25, postpaid
STUDYING THE SHORT-STORY
SIXTEEN COMPLETE MASTERPIECES
WITH ANALYSES AND MANY HELPS
BY J. BERG ESENWEIN
470 pp. Cloth; $1.25, postpaid
WRITING THE PHOTOPLAY
A COMPLETE COURSE OF INSTRUCTION
IN WRITING AND SELLING
BT J. BERG ESENWEIN & ARTHUR LEEDS
384 pp. Cloth; illustrated;
$2.12, postpaid
THE ART OF STORY-WRITING
A DIRECT GUIDE FOR WRITING
ALL SHORT FICTIONAL FORMS
BT J. B. ESENWEIN & MART D. CHAMBERS
222 pp. Cloth; $1.35, postpaid
THE ART OF VERSIFICATION
A CLEARLY-STATED WORKING HAND-
BOOK FOR WRITERS AND STUDENTS
BY J. B. ESENWEIN A MARY E. ROBERTS
323 pp. Cloth; $1.62, postpaid
THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
AN INSPIRING AND PRACTICAL
BOOK THAT REALLY SHOWS THE WAY
BY J. B. ESENWEIN & DALE CARNAGEY
526 pp. Cloth; $1.62, postpaid
THE TECHNIQUE OF THE MYSTERY STORY
THE ONLY EXPOSITION OF THIS FASCINATING
AND POPULAR FORM
BY CAROLYN WELLS
EDITED, WITH INTRODUCTION, BY J. BERG ESENWEIN
350 pp. Cloth; $1.62, postpaid
IN PREPARATION
READY DURING THE FIRST HALF OF I9I5
THE ART OF PLAYWRITING
A COMPLETE WORKING METHOD
WITH ABUNDANT EXERCISES
BY CHARLTON ANDREWS
WITH CHAPTERS BY J. B. ESENWEIN
Cloth; $1.62, postpaid
THE WAY INTO JOURNALISM
THOROUGH INSTRUCTION IN BOTH
NEWSPAPER AND MAGAZINE WORK
BY ERNEST NEWTON BAGG
WITH CHAPTERS BY J. B. ESENWEIN
Cloth; $1.62, postpaid
MANUSCRIPT PREPARATION
HOW TO PREPARE MS. FOR THE
RBINTER, READ PROOF, PUNCTUATE, ETC.
BY J. BERG ESENWEIN & R. T. HARDY
Cloth, illustrated; $1.62, postpaid
THE POET'S WORD BOOK
A CATALOGUE OF RHYMES FOB
ALL WHO WRITE VERSE
BY J. B. ESENWEIN & CHARLES MOBBIS
Cloth; $1.62, postpaid
OTHER VOLUMES TO BE ANNOUNCED
The Art of Public Speaking
BY
J. BERG ESENWEIN
author of
"how to attract and hold an audience,"
"writing the short-story,"
"writing the photoplay," etc., etc.,
AND
DALE CARNAGEY
INSTRUCTOR IN PUBLIC SPEAKING, Y. M. C. A. SCHOOLS,
NEW YORK, BROOKLYN, PHILADELPHIA, WILMINGTON, AND BALTIMORE
THE WRITER'S LIBRARY
EDITED BY J. BERG ESENWEIN
THE HOME CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOL
SPRINGFIELD, MASS.
PUBLISHERS
0^
Copyright 191 5
The Home Correspondence School
All Rights Reserved
TO
F. ARTHUR METCALF
FELLOW-WORKER AND FRIEND
330407
Table of Contents
Page
Things to Think of First — A Foreword . . . ix
v^^Ihapter I— AgOTamffifi KTonfidence Before an
Audience / . . i
— i-CqABiER 114-The Sin of Monotony /. . . . lo
V-^HAPTER III— ^FFiaENCY THROUGH EmPHASIS AND
/ "Subordination ; i6
^^ — Chapter IV — Efficiency through Change of
Pitch 27
LJChapter V — Efficiency through Change of
/ Pace . . .. . . . ^ 39
t Chapter VI-^Pause and Power | 55
Chapter VII-rEFFiciENCY through Inflection 69
Chapter VIII^Concentration in Delivery ) . 80
Chapter EX — Force 87
Chapter X — Feeling and Enthuslasm . . . 101 '
Chapter XI — Fluency through Preparation . 115
^Chapter XII — The Voice i2<_-
Chapter XIII — ^VoiCE Charm 134 -
Chapter XIV— Distinctness and Precision of
Utterance; 146
V Chapter XV — The Truth About Gesture . . 156
Chapter XVI — Methods of Delivery . . . 171
vin
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter XVII^Thought and Reserve Power
Chapter XVIII — Subject and Preparation .
Chapter XIX — Influencing by Exposition .
Chapter XX — Influencing by Description .
Chapter XXI — Influencing by Narration .
Chapter XXII — Influencing by Suggestion
Chapter XXIII — Influencing by Argument
Chapter XXIV — Influencing by Persuasion
Chapter XXV — iNFLUENaNG the Crowd
Chapter XXVI — Riding the Winged Horse.
fs Chapter XXVII — Growing a Vocabulary
Chapter XXVIII— Memory Training . .
-^Chapter XXIX— Right Thinking and Person
ALITY
Chapter XXX— After-Dinner and other Occa
SIGNAL Speaking
Chapter XXXI — Making Conversation Effec
TIVE
Appendix A — Fifty Questions for Debate .
Appendix B — Thirty Themes for Speeches, with
Source-References
Appendix C — Suggestive Subjects for Speeches
Hints for Treatment
Appendix D — Speeches for Study and Practise
General Index
Things to Think of First
A FOREWORD
The efficiency of a book is like that of a man, in one im-
portant respect: its attitude toward its subject is the first
source of its power. A book may be full of good ideas well
expressed, but if its writer views his subject from the wrong
angle even his excellent advice may prove to be ineffective.
This book stands or falls by its authors* attitude toward
its subject. If the best way to teach oneself or others
to speak effectively in public is to fill the mind with rules,
and to set up fixed standards for the interpretation of
thought, the utterance of language, the making of ges-
tures, and all the rest, then this book will be limited in
value to such stray ideas throughout its pages as may
prove helpful to the reader — as an effort to enforce a
group of principles it must be reckoned a failure, because
it is then untrue.
Ik
It is of some importance, therefore, to those who take
up this volume with open mind that they should see
clearly at the out-start what is the thought that at once
underlies and is builded through this structure. In plain
words it is this:
Training in public speaking is not a matter of externals
— primarily; it is not a matter of imitation — fundamen-
tally; it is not a matter of conformity to standards — at
all. Public speaking is public utterance, public issuance,
of the man himself; therefore the first thing both in time
and in importance is that the man should be and think
and feel things that are worthy of being given forth.
X THE ART OP PUBLIC SPEAKING
Unless there be something of value within, no tricks of
training can ever make of the talker anything more than
a machine — albeit a highly perfected machine — for the
delivery of other men's goods. So self-development is
fundamental in our plan. .
The second principle lies close to the first: The man must
enthrone his wilJ,lo-«ile over his thought, his feelings, and
all his physical powers, so that the outer self may give per-
fect, unhampered expression to the inner. It is futile, we
assert, to lay down systems of rules for voice culture, in-
tonation, gesture, and what not, unless these two principles
of having something to say and making the will sovereign
have at least begun to make themselves felt in the life.
The third principle will, we surmise, arouse no dispute:
No one can learn how to speak who does not first speak as
best he^^axL^ That may seem like a vicious circle in
statement, but it will bear examination.
Many teachers have begun with the how. Vain effort!
It is an ancient truism that we learn to do by doing. The
first thing for the beginner in public speaking is to speak —
not to study voice and gesture and the rest. Once he has
spoken he can improve himself by self-observation or
according to the criticisms of those who hear.
But how shall he be able to criticise himself? Simply
by finding out three things: What are the qualities which
by common consent go to make up an effective speaker;
by what means at least some of these qualities may be
acquired; and what wrong habits of speech in himself
work against his acquiring and using the qualities which
he finds to be good.
THINGS TO THINK OF FIRST XI
Experience, then, is not only the best teacher, but the
first and the last. But experience must be a dual thing —
the experience of others must be used to supplement,
correct and justify our own experience; in this way we
shall become our own best critics only after we have
trained ourselves in self-knowledge, the knowledge of
what other minds think, and in the ability to judge our-
selves by the standards we have come to believe are
right. ''If I ought," said Kant, "I can."
An examination of the contents of this volume will show
how consistently these articles of faith have been de-
clared, expounded, and illustrated. The student is urged
to begin to speak at once of what he knows. Then he is
given simple suggestions for self-control, with gradually
increasing emphasis upon the power of the inner man over
the outer. Next, the way to the rich storehouses of
material is pointed out. And finally, all the while he is
urged to speak, speak ^ SPEAK as he is applying to his own
methods, in his own personal way, the principles he has
gathered from his own experience and observation and
the recorded experiences of others.
So now at the very first let it be as clear as light that
methods are secondary matters; that the full mind, the
warm heart, the dominant will are primary — and not only
primary but paramount; for unless it be a full being that
uses the methods it will be like dressing a wooden image
in the clothes of a man.
J. Berg Esenwein.
Narberth, Pa.,
January i, 191 5.
THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Sense never fails to give them that have it, Words enough to
make them understooa. It too often happens in some conver-
sations, as in Apothecary Shops, that those Pots that are Emptv,
or have Things of smiall Value in them, are as gaudily Dress d
as those that are full of precious Drugs.
They that soar too high, often fall hard, making a low and
level DweUing preferable. The tallest Trees are most in the
Power of the Winds, and Ambitious Men of the Blasts of Fortime.
Buildings have need of a good Foundation, that he so much ex-
posed to the Weather.
— William Penn.
CHAPTER I
ACQUIRING CONFIDENCE BEFORE AN AUDIENCE
There is a strange sensation often experienced in the presence
of an audience. It may proceed from the gaze of the many eyes
that turn upon the speaker, especially if he permits himself to
steadily return that gaze. Most speakers have been conscious
of this in a nameless thrill, a real something, pervading the atmos-
phere, tangible, evanescent, indescribable. All writers have
borne testimony to the power of a speaker's eye in impressing
an audience. This influence which we are now considering is
the reverse of that picture — the power their eyes may exert
upon him, especially before he begins to speak: after the inward
fires of oratory are fanned into flame the eyes of the audience
lose all tenor. — William Pittenger, Extempore Speech.
Students of public speaking continually ask, " How can
I overcome self-consciousness and the fear that paralyzes
me before an audience?"
Did you ever notice in looking from a train window
that some horses feed near the track and never even
pause to look up at the thundering cars, while just
ahead at the next railroad crossing a farmer's wife will
be nervously trying to quiet her scared horse as the
train goes by?
How would you cure a horse that is afraid of cars — graze
him in a back-woods lot where he would never see steam-
engines or automobiles, or drive or pasture him where he
would frequently see the machines?
Apply horse-sense to ridding yoiurself of self-conscious-
ness and fear: face an audience as frequently a^ you can,
a THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
and you will soon stop shying. You can never attain free-
dom from stage-fright by reading a treatise. A book may
give you excellent suggestions on how best to conduct your-
self in the water, but sooner or later you must get wet, per-
haps even strangle and be "half scared to death." There
are a great many "wetless" bathing suits worn at the sea-
shore, but no one ever learns to swim in them. To plunge
is the only way.
Practise, practise^ PRACTISE in speaking before an
audience will tend to remove all fear of audiences, just
as practice in swimming will lead to confidence and
facility in the water. You must learn to speak by speaking.
The Apostle Paul tells us that every man must work out
his own salvation. All we can do here is to offer you sug-
gestions as to how best to prepare for your plunge. The
real plunge no one can take for you. A doctor may pre-
scribe, but you must take the medicine.
Do not be disheartened if at first you suffer from stage-
fright. Dan Patch was more susceptible to suffering
than a superannuated dray horse would be. It never hurts
a fool to appear before an audience, for his capacity is
not a capacity for feeling. A blow that would kill a
civilized man soons heals on a savage. The higher we go
in the scale of life, the greater is the capacity for suffering.
For one reason or another, some master-speakers never
entirely overcome stage-fright, but it will pay you to
spare no pains to conquer it. Daniel Webster failed in his
first appearance and had to take his seat without finishing
his speech because he was nervous. Gladstone was often
troubled with, self-consciousness in the beginning of an ad-
ACQUIRING CONFIDENCE BEFORE AN AUDIENCE 3
dress. Beecher was always perturbed before talking
in public.
Blacksmiths sometimes twist a rope tight around the
nose of a horse, and by thus inflicting a little pain they
distract his attention from the shoeing process. One way
to get air out of a glass is to pour in water.
Be Absorbed by Your Subject
Apply the blacksmith's homely principle when you are
speaking. If you feel deeply about your subject you will
be able to think of little else. Concentration is a proc-
ess of distraction from less important matters. It is
too late to think about the cut of your coat when once you
are upon the platform, so centre your interest on what
you are about to say — fill your mind with your speech-
material and, like the infilhng water in the glass, it will
drive out your unsubstantial fears.
Self-consciousness is undue consciousness of self, and,
for the purpose of delivery, self is secondary to your sub-
ject, not only in the opinion of the audience, but, if you
are wise, in your own. To hold any other view is to regard
yourself as an exhibit instead of as a messenger with a
message worth delivering. Do you remember Elbert
Hubbard's tremendous Uttle tract, "A Message to Gar-
da"? The youth subordinated himself to the message
he bore. So must you, by all the determination you can
muster. It is sheer egotism to fill your mind with thoughts
of self when a greater thing is there — TRUTH. Say this
to yourself sternly, and shame your self-consciousness into
4 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
quiescence. If the theater caught fire you could rush to
the stage and shout directions to the audience without any
self-consciousness, for the importance of what you were
saying would drive all fear-thoughts out of your mind.
Far worse than self-consciousness through fear of doing
poorly is self-consciousness through assumption of doing
well. The first sign of greatness is when a man does not
attempt to look and act great. Before you can call your-
self a man at all, Kipling assures us, you must "not look
too good nor talk too wise."
Nothing advertises itself so thoroughly as conceit. One
may be so full of self as to be empty. Voltaire said, " We
must conceal self-love." But that can not be done. You
know this to be true, for you have recognized overweening
self-love in others. If you have it, others are seeing it in
you. There are things in this world bigger than self, and
in working for them self will be forgotten, or — what is
better — remembered only so as to help us win toward
higher things.
Have Something to Say
The trouble with many speakers is that they go before
an audience with their minds a blank. It is no wonder
that nature, abhorring a vacuum, fills them with the nearest
thing handy, which generally happens to be, "I wonder
if I am doing this right! How does my hair look? I know
I shall fail." Their prophetic souls are sure to be right.
It is not enough to be absorbed by your subject — to
acquire self-confidence you must have something in which
to be confident. If you go before an audience without any
ACQUIRING CONFIDENCE BEFORE AN AUDIENCE $
preparation, or previous knowledge of your subject, you
ought to be self-conscious — you ought to be ashamed to
steal the time of your audience. Prepare yourself. Kjiow
what you are going to talk about, and, in general, how you
are going to say it. Have the first few sentences worked
out completely so that you may not be troubled in the
beginning to find words. Know your subject better than
your hearers know it, and you have nothing to fear.
After Preparing for SuccesSy Expect It
Let your bearing be modestly confident, but most of
all be modestly confident within. Over-confidence is
bad, but to tolerate premonitions of failure is worse, for a
bold man may win attention by his very bearing, while a
rabbit-hearted coward invites disaster.
Hiunility is not the personal discount that we must
offer in the presence of others — against this old inter-
pretation there has been a most healthy modern reaction.
True himiility any man who thoroughly knows himself
must feel; but it is not a humility that assimies a worm-
like meekness; it is rather a strong, vibrant prayer for
greater power for service — a prayer that Uriah Heep could
never have uttered.
Washington Irving once introduced Charles Dickens
at a dinner given in the latter's honor. In the middle of
his speech Irving hesitated, became embarrassed, and
sat down awkwardly. Turning to a friend beside him he
remarked, "There, I told you I would fail, and I did."
If you believe you will fail, there is no hope jor you.
You will.
6 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Rid yourself of this I-am-a-poor-wonn-in-the-dust idea.
You are a god, with infinite capabilities. "All things are
ready if the mind be so." The eagle looks the cloudless
sun in the face.
Assume Mastery Over Your Audience
In public speech, as in electricity, there is a positive
and a negative force. Either you or your audience are
going to possess the positive factor. K you assume it
you can almost invariably make it yours. If you assume
the negative you are sure to be negative. Assimiing a
virtue or a vice vitalizes it. Summon all your power
of self-direction, and remember that though your audience
is infinitely more important than you, the truth is more
important than both of you, because it is eternal. If your
mind falters in its leadership the sword will drop from your
hands. Your assumption of being able to instruct or
lead or inspire a multitude or even a small group of people
may appall you as being colossal impudence — as indeed it
may be; but having once essayed to speak, be courageous.
BE courageous — it lies within you to be what you will.
MAKE yourself be calm and confident.
Reflect that your audience will not hurt you. If Beecher
in Liverpool had spoken behind a wire screen he
would have invited the audience to throw the over-ripe
missiles with which they were loaded; but he was a man,
confronted his hostile hearers fearlessly — and won them.
In facing your audience, pause a moment and look them
over — a. himdred chances to one they want you to succeed,
for what man is so foolish as to spend his time, perhaps
ACQUIRING CONFIDENCE BEFORE AN AUDIENCE 7
his money, in the hope that you will waste his investment
by talking dully?
Concluding Hints
Do not make haste to begin — haste shows lack of con-
trol.
Do not apologize. It ought not to be necessary; and
if it is, it will not help. Go straight ahead.
Take a deep breath, relax, and begin in a quiet con-
versational tone as though you were speaking to one large
friend. You will not find it half so bad as you imagined;
really, it is like taking a cold plunge: after you are in,
the water is fine. In fact, having spoken a few times you
will even anticipate the plimge with exhilaration. To
stand before an audience and make them think your
thoughts after you is one of the greatest pleasures you can
ever know. Instead of fearing it, you, ought to be as
anxious as the fox hounds straining at their leashes, or
the race horses tugging at their reins.
So cast out fear, for fear is cowardly — ^when it is not
mastered. The bravest know fear, but they do not yield
to it. Face your audience pluckily — if your knees quake,
MAKE them stop. In your audience lies some victory
for you and the cause you represent. Go win it. Suppose
Charles Kartell had been afraid to hammer the Saracen
at Tours; suppose Columbus had feared to venture out
into the unknown West; suppose our forefathers had been
too timid to oppose the tyrrany of George the Third;
suppose that any man who ever did anything worth while
had been a coward! The world owes its progress to the
8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
men who have dared, and you must dare to speak the
effective word that is in your heart to speak — for often
it requires courage to utter a single sentence. But re-
member that men erect no moniunents and weave no
laurels for those who fear to do what they can.
Is all this unsympathetic, do you say?
Man, what you need is not sympathy, but a push. No
one doubts that temperament and nerves and illness and
even praiseworthy modesty may, singly or combined,
cause the speaker's cheek to blanch before an audience,
but neither can any one doubt that coddling will magnify
this weakness. The victory lies in a fearless frame of mind.
Prof. Walter Dill Scott says: "Success or failure in busi-
ness is caused more by mental attitude even than by men-
tal capacity." Banish the fear:attitude; acquire the con-
fident attitude. And remember that the only way to
acquire it is — to ofiquire it.
In this foundation chapter we have tried to strike the
tone of much that is to follow. Many of these ideas will
be amplified and enforced in a more specific way; but
through all these chapters on an art which Mr. Gladstone
believed to be more powerful than the public press, the
note of justifiable self-confidence must sound again and
again.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES.
1. What is the cause of self-consciousness?
2. Why are animals free from it?
ACQUnONG CONFIDENCE BEFORE AN AUDIENCE 9
3. What is your observation regarding self-conscious-
ness in children?
4. Why are you free from it under the stress of un-
usual excitement?
5. How does moderate excitement affect you?
6. What are the two fundamental requisites for the
acquiring of self-confidence? Which is the more important?
7. What effect does confidence on the part of the
speaker have on the audience?
8. Write out a two-minute speech on " Confidence and
Cowardice."
9. What effect do habits of thought have on confidence?
In this connection read the chapter on "Right Thinking
and Personality."
10. Write out very briefly any experience you may have
had involving the teachings of this chapter.
11. Give a three-minute talk on "Stage-Fright," in-
cluding a (kindly) imitation of two or more victims.
CHAPTER n
THE SIN OF MONOTONY
One day Ennui was bom from Uniformity. — Motte.
Our English has changed with the years so that many
words now connote more than they did originally. This is
true of the word monotonous. From " having but one tone,"
it has come to mean more broadly, "lack of variation."
The monotonous speaker not only drones along in the
same volume and pitch of tone but uses always the same
emphasis, the same speed, the same thoughts — or dis-
penses with thought altogether.
Monotony, the cardinal and most common sin of the pub-
lic speaker, is not a transgression — ^it is rather a sin of omis-
sion, for it consists in living up to the confession of the
Prayer Book: "We have left imdone those things we
ought to have done."
Emerson says, "The virtue of art lies in detachment,
in sequestering one object from the embarrassing variety."
That is just what the monotonous speaker fails to do — ^he
does not detach one thought or phrase from another, they
are all expressed in the same manner.
To tell you that your speech is monotonous may mean
very little to you, so let us look at the nature — and the
curse — of monotony in other spheres of life, then we shall
appreciate more fully how it will blight an otherwise good
speech.
THE SIN OF MONOTONY II
K the Victrola in the adjoining apartment grinds out
just three selections over and over again, it is pretty safe
to assume that your neighbor has no other records. If a
speaker uses only a few of his powers, it points very plainly
to the fact that the rest of his powers are not developed.
MonotQjgiy-rev^ak our- 4imitation&.
In its efifect on its victim, monotony is actually deadly —
it will drive the bloom from the cheek and the lustre from
the eye as quickly as sin, and often leads to viciousness.
The worst punishment that human ingenuity has ever been
able to invent is extreme monotony — solitary confinement.
Lay a marble on the table and do nothing eighteen hours of
the day but change that marble from one point to another
and back again, and you will go insane if you continue
long enough.
So this thing that shortens life, and is used as the most
cruel of punishments in our prisons, is the thing that will
destroy all the life and force of a speech. Avoid it as you
would shun a deadly dull bore. The " idle rich " can have
half-a-dozen homes, command all the varieties of foods
gathered from the four corners of the earth, and sail for
Africa or Alaska at their pleasure; but the poverty-
stricken man must walk or take a street car — ^he does not
have the choice of yacht, auto, or special train. He must
spend the most of his life in labor and be content with
the staples of the food-market. Monotony ia po^^ertyy
whe^erin speechjor ialife. Strive to increase the variety
of your speech as the business man labors to augment his
wealth.
Bird-songs, forest glens, and mountains are not mono-
12 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
tonous — it is the long rows of brown-stone fronts and the
miles of paved streets that are so terribly same. Nature
in her wealth gives us endless variety; man with his
limitations is often monotonous. Get back to nature in
your methods of speech-making.
The power of variety lies in its pleasure-giving quality.
The great truths of the world have often been couched in
fascinating stories — "Les Miserables," for instance. If
you wish to teach or influence men, you must please them,
first or last. Strike the same note on the piano over and
over again. This will give you some idea of the displeasing,
jarring effect monotony has on the ear. The dictionary
defines "monotonous" as being synonymous with "weari-
some." That is putting it mildly. It is maddening. The
department-store prince does not disgust the public by
playing only the one tune, "Come Buy My Wares!" He
gives recitals on a $125,000 organ, and the pleased
people naturally slip into a buying mood.
How to Conquer Monotony
We obviate monotony in dress by replenishing our
wardrobes. We avoid monotony in speech by multi-
plying our_pQWjers.of^peech. We multiply our powers of
speech by increasing our tools.
The carpenter has special implements with which to
construct the several parts of a building. The organist
has certain keys and stops which he manipulates to pro-
duce his harmonies and effects. In like manner the speaker
has certain instruments and tools at his conmiand by
which he builds his argument, plays on the feelings, and
THE SIN OF MONOTONY 1 3
guides the beliefs of his audience. To give you a concep-
tion of these instruments, and practical help in learning
to use them, are the purposes of the immediately following
chapters.
Why did not the Children of Israel whirl through the
desert in limousines, and why did not Noah have moving-
picture entertainments and talking machines on the Ark?
The laws that enable us to operate an automobile, pro-
duce moving-pictures, or music on the Victrola, would
have worked just as well then as they do today. It was
ignorance of law that for ages deprived humanity of our
modern conveniences. Many speakers still use ox-cart
methods in their speech instead of employing automobile
or overland-express methods. They are ignorant of laws
that make for efficiency in speaking. Just t6~the extent
that you regard and use the laws that we are about to
examine and learn how to use will you have efficiency and
force in your speaking; and just to the extent that you
disregard them will your speaking be feeble and ineffec-
tive. We cannot impress too thoroughly upon you the
necessity for a real working mastery of these principles.
They are the very foundations of successful speaking.
"Get your principles right," said Napoleon," and the rest
is a matter of detail."
It is useless to shoe a dead horse, and all the sound
principles in Christendom will never make a live speech
out of a dead one. So let it be understood that public
speaking is not a matter of mastering a few dead rules; the
most important law of public speech is the necessity for
truth, force, feeling, and life. Forget all else, but not this.
14 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKLNG
When you have mastered the mechanics of speech out-
lined in the next few chapters you will no longer be troubled
with monotony. The complete knowledge of these prin-
ciples and the ability to apply them will give you great
variety in your powers of expression. But they cannot
be mastered and applied by thinking or reading about
them — you must practise, practise ^ PRACTISE. If no
one else will listen to you, listen to yourself — ^you must
always be your own best critic, and the severest one of all.
The technical principles that we lay down in the follow-
ing chapters are not arbitrary creations of our own. They
are all founded on the practices that good speakers and
actors adopt — either naturally and unconsciously or
under instruction — in getting their effects.
It is useless to warn the student that he must be natural.
To be natural may be to be monotonous. The little straw-
berry up in the arctics with a few tiny seeds and an acid
tang is a natural berry, but it is not to be compared with
the improved variety that we enjoy here. The dwarfed
oak on the rocky hillside is natural, but a poor thing com-
pared with the beautiful tree found in the rich, moist
bottom lands. Be natural — but improve your natural
gifts until you have approached the ideal, for we must
strive after idealized nature, in fruit, tree, and speech.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES.
1. What are the causes of monotony?
2. Cite some instances in nature.
3. Cite instances in man's daily life.
THE SIN OF MONOTONY 1 5
4. Describe some of the effects of monotony in both
cases.
5. Read aloud some speech without paying particular
attention to its meaning or force.
6. Now repeat it after you have thoroughly assimilated
its matter and spirit. What difference do you notice in
its rendition?
7. Why is monotony one of the worst as well as one
of the most common faults of speakers?
CHAPTER III
EFFICIENCY THROUGH EMPHASIS AND
SUBORDINATION
In a word, the principle of emphasis .... is followed
best, not by remembering particular rules, but by being full
of a particular feeling. — C. S. Baldwin, Writing and Speaking.
The gun that scatters too much does not bag the birds.
The same principle applies to speech. The speaker that
fires his force and emphasis at random into a sentence will
not get results. Not every word is of special importance
— therefore only certain words demand emphasis.
You say MassaC5^Z7setts and Minneapolis, you do not
emphasize each syllable alike, but hit the accented
syllable with force and hurry over the unimportant ones.
Now why do you not apply this principle in speaking a
sentence? To some extent you do, in ordinary speech;
but do you in public discourse? It is there that monotony
caused by lack of emphasis is so painfully apparent.
So far as emphasis is concerned, you may consider the
average sentence as just one big word, with the important
word as the accented syllable. Note the following:
"Destiny is not a matter of chance. It is a matter of
choice."
You might as well say MASS-A-CHU-SETTS, em-
phasizing every syllable equally, as to lay equal stress
on each word in the foregoing sentences.
Speak it aloud and see. Of course you will want to em-
EFFICIENCY THROUGH EMPHASIS AND SUBORDINATION 1 7
phasize destiny , for it is the principal idea in your declara-
tion, and you will put some emphasis on not, else your
hearers may think you are affirming that destiny is a
matter of chance. By all means you must emphasize
chance, for it is one of the two big ideas in the statement.
Another reason why chance takes emphasis is that it
is contrasted with choice in the next sentence. Obviously,
the author has contrasted these ideas purposely,
so that they might be more emphatic, and here we
see that contrast is one of the very first devices to gain
emphasis.
As a public speaker you can assist this emphasis of con-
trast with your voice. If you say, "My horse is not
black, ^^ what color immediately comes into mind? White,
naturally, for that is the opposite of black. If you wish
to bring out the thought that destiny is a matter of choice,
you can do so more effectively by first saying that ''DES-
TINY is NOT a matter of CHANCE:' Is not the color
of the horse impressed upon us more emphatically when
you say, "My horse is NOT BLACK. He is WHITE"
than it would be by hearing you assert merely that
your horse is white?
In the second sentence of the statement there is only one
important word — choice. It is the one word that posi-
tively defines the quality of the subject being discussed,
and the author of those lines desired to bring it out
emphatically, as he has shown by contrasting it with
another idea. These lines, then, would read like this:
''DESTINY is NOT a matter of CHANCE. It is
a matter of CHOICE.'' Now read this over, striking
l8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the words in capitals with a great deal of force.
In almost every sentence there are a few MOUNTAIN
PEAK WORDS that represent the big, important ideas.
When you pick up the evening paper you can tell
at a glance which are the important news articles.
Thanks to the editor, he does not tell about a "hold up"
in Hong Kong in the same sized type as he uses to report
the death of five firemen in your home city. Size of type
is his device to show emphasis in bold relief. He brings
out sometimes even in red headlines the striking news of
the day.
It would be a boon to speech-making if speakers would
conserve the attention of their audiences in the same way
and emphasize only the words representing the important
ideas. The average speaker will deliver the foregoing
line on destiny with about the same amount of emphasis
on each word. Instead of saying, "It is a matter of
CHOICE,'' he will deliver it, "It is a matter of choice,"
or " IT IS A MA TTER OF CHOICE"— both equally bad.
Charles Dana, the famous editor of The New York Sun,
told one of his reporters that if he went up the street and
saw a dog bite a man, to pay no attention to it. The Sun
could not afford to waste the time and attention of its
readers on such unimportant happenings. "But," said Mr.
Dana, "if you see a man bite a dog, hurry back to the
office and write the story." Of course that is news; that
is unusual.
Now the speaker who says "IT IS A MATTER OF
CHOICE" is putting too much emphasis upon things
that are of no more importance to metropolitan readers
EFFICIENCY THROUGH EMPHASIS AND SUBORDINATION 1 9
than a dog bite, and when he fails to emphasize "choice"
he is like the reporter who "passes up" the man's biting
a dog. The ideal speaker makes his big words stand out
like moimtain peaks; his unimportant words are sub-
merged like stream-beds. His big thoughts stand like huge
oaks; his ideas of no especial value are merely like the
grass around the tree.
From all this we may deduce this important principle:
EMPHASIS is a matter of CONTRAST and COM-
PARISON.
Recently the New York American featured an editorial
by Arthur Brisbane. Note the following, printed in the
same type as given here.
We do not know what the President THOUGHT
when he got that message, or what the elephant thinks
when he sees the mouse, but we do know what the
President DID.
The words THOUGHT and DID immediately catch
the reader's attention because they are different from the
others, not especially because they are larger. If all the
rest of the words in this sentence were made ten times
as large as they are, and DID and THOUGHT were
kept at their present size, they would still be emphatic,
because different.
Take the following from Robert Chambers* novel,
"The Business of Life." The words yoUy hadj would,
are all emphatic, because they have been made different.
He looked at her in angry astonishment.
"Well, what do you call it if it isn't cowardice — ^to slink off and
marry a defenseless girl like that!"
20 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
"Did you expect me to give you a chance to destroy me arid
poison Jacqueline's mind? If I had been guilty of the thing with
which you charge me, what I have done would have been
cowardly. Otherwise, it is justified."
A Fifth Avenue bus would attract attention up at
Minisink Ford, New York, while one of the ox teams that
frequently pass there would attract attention on Fifth
Avenue. To make a word emphatic, deliver it differently
from the manner in which the words surrounding it are
delivered. If you have been talking loudly, utter the
emphatic word in a concentrated whisper — and you have
intense emphasis. If you have been going fast, go very
slow on the emphatic word. If you have been talking on
a low pitch, jump to a high one on the emphatic word. If
you have been talking on a high pitch, take a low one on
your emphatic ideas. Read the chapters on "Inflection,"
"Feeling," "Pause," "Change of Pitch," "Change of
Tempo." Each of these will explain in detail how to get
emphasis through the use of a certain principle.
In this chapter, however, we are considering only one
form of emphasis: that of applying force to the important
word and subordinating the unimportant words. Do not
forget: this is one of the main methods that you must
continually employ in getting your effects.
Let us not confound loudness with emphasis. To yell
is not a sign of earnestness, intelligence, or feeUng. The
kind of force that we want applied to the emphatic
word is not entirely physical. True, the emphatic word
may be spoken more loudly, or it may be spoken more
softly, but the real quality desired is intensity, earnestness.
It must come from within, outward.
EFFICIENCY THROUGH EMPHASIS AND SUBORDINATION 21
Last night a speaker said: "The curse of this country
is not a lack of education. It's politics." He emphasized
curse, lack, education, politics. The other words were
hurried over and thus given no comparative importance
at all. The word politics was flamed out with great
feeling as he slapped his hands together indignantly. His
emphasis was both correct and powerful. He concentrated
all our attention on the words that meant something, in-
stead of holding it up on such words as of this, a, of. It's.
What would you think of a guide who agreed to show
New York to a stranger and then took up his time by visit-
ing Chinese laundries and boot-blacking "parlors" on the
side streets? There is only one excuse for a speaker's
asking the attention of his audience: He must have either
truth or entertainment for them. If he wearies their
attention with trifles they will have neither vivacity nor
desire left when he reaches words of Wall-Street and sky-
scraper importance. You do not dwell on these small
words in your everyday conversation, because you are
not a conversational bore. Apply the correct method of
everyday speech to the platform. As we have noted else-
where, public speaking is very much Hke conversation en-
larged.
Sometimes, for big emphasis, it is advisable to lay stress
on every single syllable in a word, as absolutely in the
following sentence:
I ab-so-lute-ly refuse to grant your demand.
Now and then this principle should be applied to an
emphatic sentence by stressing each word. It is a good
22 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
device for exciting special attention, and it furnishes a
pleasing variety. Patrick Henry's notable climax could
be delivered in that manner very effectively: " Give-me-
liberty-or-give— me— death. " The italicized part of the
following might also be delivered with this every-word em-
phasis. Of course, there are many ways of delivering it;
this is only one of several good interpretations that might
be chosen.
Knowing the price we must pay, the sacrifice we must make,
the burdens we must carry, the assaults we must endure — knowing
full well the cost — yet we enlist, and we enlist for the war. For
we know the justice of our cause, and we know, too, its certain
triumph. — From "Pass Prosperity Around,*' by Albert J.
Beveridge, before the Chicago National Convention of the Pro-
gressive Party.
Strongly emphasizing a single word has a tendency to
suggest its antithesis. Notice how the meaning changes
by merely putting the emphasis on different words in the
following sentence. The parenthetical expressions would
really not be needed to supplement the emphatic words.
7 intended to buy a house this Spring (even if you did not).
I INTENDED to buy a house this Spring (but something pre-
vented).
I intended to BUY a house this Spring (instead of renting as
heretofore).
I intended to buy a HOUSE this Spring (and not an automobile).
I intended to buy a house THIS Spring (instead of next Spring).
I intended to buy a house this SPRING (instead of in the
Autumn).
When a great battle is reported in the papers," they do
not keep emphasizing the same facts over and over again.
EFFICIENCY THROUGH EMPHASIS AND SUBORDINATION 23
They try to get new information, or a "new slant." The
news that takes an important place in the morning edition
will be relegated to a small space in the late afternoon
edition. We are interested in new ideas and new facts.
This principle has a very important bearing in determining
your emphasis. Do not emphasize the same idea over
and over again unless you desire to lay extra stress on it;
Senator Thurston desired to put the maximum amount of
emphasis on "force" in his speech on page 50. Note how
force is emphasized repeatedly. As a general rule, how-
ever, the new idea, the "new slant," whether in a news-
paper report of a battle or a speaker's enunciation of
his ideas, is emphatic.
In the following selection, "larger" is emphatic, for
it is the new idea. All men have eyes, but this man asks
for a LARGER eye.
This man with the larger eye says he will discover, not
rivers or safety appUances for aeroplanes, but NEW
STARS and SUNS. "New stars and suns" are hardly as
emphatic as the word ' ' larger. ' ' Why? B ecause we expect
an astronomer to discover heavenly bodies rather than
cooking recipes. The words, "RepubHc needs" in the
next sentence, are emphatic; they introduce a new and
important idea. Repubhcs have always needed men, but
the author says they need NEW men. "New" is
emphatic because it introduces a new idea. In like
manner, "soil," "grain," "tools," are also emphatic.
The most emphatic words are itaUcized in this selection.
Are there any others you would emphasize? Why?
34 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
The old astronomer said, "Give me a larger eye, and I will dis-
cover new stars and suns.*' That is what the republic needs today
— new men — men who are wise toward the soil, toward the grains,
toward the tools. If God would only raise up for the people two
or three men like Watt, Fulton and McCormick, they would be
worth more to the State than that treasure box named California
or Mexico. And the real supremacy of man is based upon his
capacity for education. Man is unique in the length of his child-
hood, which means the period of plasticity and education. The
childhood of a moth, the distance that stands between the hatching
of the robin and its maturity, represent a few hours or a/ew weeks,
but twenty years for growth stands between man's cradle and his
citizenship. This protracted childhood makes it possible to
hand over to the boy all the accumulated stores achieved by races
and civilizations through thousands of years.
— Anonymous.
You must understand that there are no steel-riveted
rules of emphasis. It is not always possible to designate
which word must, and which must not be emphasized.
One speaker will put one interpretation on a speech,
another speaker will use different emphasis to bring
out a different interpretation. No one can say that one
interpretation is right and the other wrong. This prin-
ciple must be borne in mind in all our marked exercises.
Here your own intelligence must guide — and greatly to
your profit.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES.
1. What is emphasis?
2. Describe one method of destroying monotony of
thought-presentation.
3. What relation does this have to the use of the voice?
4. Which words should be emphasized, which sub-
ordinated, in a sentence?
EFFICIENCY THROUGH EMPHASIS AND SUBORDINATION 2$
5. Read the selections on pages 50, 51, 52, 53 and 54,
devoting special attention to emphasizing the important
words or phrases and subordinating the unimportant ones.
Read again, changing emphasis slightly. What is the effect?
6. Read some sentence repeatedly, emphasizing a
different word each time, and show how the meaning is
changed, as is done on page 22.
7. What is the effect of a lack of emphasis?
8. Read the selections on pages 30 and 48, empha-
sizing every word. What is the effect on the emphasis?
9. When is it permissible to emphasize every single
word in a sentence?
10. Note the emphasis and subordination in some
conversation or speech you have heard. Were they well
made? Why? Can you suggest any improvement?
1 1 . From a newspaper or a magazine, clip a report of an
address, or a biographical eulogy. Mark the passage for
emphasis and bring it with you to class.
12. In the following passage, would you make any
changes in the author's markings for emphasis? Where?
Why? Bear in mind that not all words marked require
the same degree of emphasis — in a wide variety of emphasis y
and in nice shading of the gradations, lie the excellence of
tmphatic speech.
I would call him Napoleon, but Napoleon made his way to
empire over broken oaths and through a sea of hlood. This man
never broke his word. " No Retaliation " was his great motto and
the rule of his life; and the last words uttered to his son in France
were these: " My boy, you will one day go back to Santo Domin-
go; forget that France murdered your father ." I would call him
26 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Cromwell, but Cromwell was only a soldier, and the state he found-
ed went down with him into his grave. I would caU him Washing-
ton, but the great Virginian held slaves. This man risked his em-
pire rather than permit the slave-trade in the humblest village
of his dominions.
You think me a fanatic to-night, for you read history, «o/ with
your eyes, but with your prejudices. But fifty years hence, when
Truth gets a hearing, the Muse of History will put Phocion for
the Greek, and Brutus for the Roman, Hampden for England^
Lafayette for France, choose Washington as the bright, consummate
flower of our earlier civilization, and John Brown the ripe fruit
of our noonday, then, dipping her pen in the sunlight, will write
in the clear blue, above them aU, the name of the soldier, the states-
man, the martyr, TOUSSAINT L'OUVERTURE.
— Wendell Phillips, Toussaint VOuverture.
Practise on the following selections for emphasis:
Beecher's "Abraham Lincoln," page 76; Lincoln's "Get-
tysburg Speech," page 50; Seward's "Irrepressible Con-
flict," page 67; and Bryan's "Prince of Peace," page 448.
CHAPTER IV
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PITCH
Speech is simply a modified form of singing: the principal
difference being in the fact that in singing the vowel sounds are
prolonged and the intervals are short, whereas in speech the words
are uttered in what may be called "staccato" tones, the vowels
not being specially prolonged and the intervals between the words
being more distinct. The fact that in singing we have a larger
range of tones does not properly distinguish it from ordinary
speech. In speech we have likewise a variation of tones, and even
in ordinary conversation there is a difference of from three to
six semi-tones, as I have found in my investigations, and in some
persons the range is as high as one octave.
— ^William Scheppegrell, Popular Science Monthly.
By pitch, as everyone knows, we mean the relative
position of a vocal tone — as, high, medium, low, or any
variation between. In public speech we apply it not only
to a single utterance, as an exclamation or a monosyllable
{Oh! or the) but to any group of syllables, words, and even ,
sentences that may be spoken in a single tone. This dis- ,
tinction it is important to keep in mind, for the efficient
speaker not only changes the pitch of successive syllables
(see Chapter VII, "Efficiency through Inflection"), but
gives a different pitch to different parts, or word-groups,
of successive sentences. It is this phase of the subject
which we are considering in this chapter.
28 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
I Every Change in the Thought Demands a Change in the
Voice-Pitch
Whether the speaker follows the rule consciously, un-
consciously, or subconsciously, this is the logical basis
upon which all good voice variation is made, yet this law
is violated more often than any other by public speakers.
A criminal may disregard a law of the state without de-
tection and punishment, but the speaker who violates this
regulation suffers its penalty at once in his loss of effective-
ness, while his innocent hearers must endure the monotony
— for monotony is not only a sin of the perpetrator,
as we have shown, but a plague on the victims as well.
Change of pitch is a stumbling block for almost all be-
ginners, and for many experienced speakers also. This is
especially true when the words of the speech have been
memorized.
If you wish to hear how pitch-monotony sounds, strike
the same note on the piano over and over again. You have
in your speaking voice a range of pitch from high to low,
with a great many shades between the extremes. With
all these notes available there is no excuse for offending the
ears and taste of your audience by continually using the
one note. True, the reiteration of the same tone in music —
as in pedal point on an organ composition — may be made
the foundation of beauty, for the harmony weaving about
that one basic tone produces a consistent, insistent quaUty
not felt in pure variety of chord sequences. In like man-
ner the intoning voice in a ritual may — though it rarely
does — ^possess a solemn beauty. But the public speaker
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PITCH 29
should shun the monotone as he would a pestilence.
Continual Change of Pitch is Nature's Highest Method
In our search for the principles of efficiency we must con-
tinually go back to nature. Listen — really listen — to the
birds sing. Which of these feathered tribes are most
pleasing in their vocal efforts: those whose voices, though
sweet, have little or no range, or those that, like the canary,
the lark, and the nightingale, not only possess a consider-
able range but utter their notes in continual variety of
combinations? Even a sweet-toned chirp, when reiterated
without change, may grow maddening to the enforced
listener.
The little child seldom speaks in a monotonous pitch.
Observe the conversations of little folk that you hear on
the street or in the home, and note the continual changes
of pitch. The unconscious speech of most adults is like-
wise full of pleasing variations.
Imagine someone speaking the following, and consider if
the effect would not be just about as indicated. Re-
member, we are not now discussing the inflection of single
words, but the general pitch in which phrases are spoken.
(High pitch) "I'd like to leave for my vacation tomorrow, —
(lower) still, I have so much to do. (Higher) Yet I suppose if
I wait until I have time I'll never go."
Repeat this, first in the pitches indicated, and then all
in the one pitch, as many speakers would. Observe the
difference in naturalness of effect.
The following exercise should be spoken in a purely
30 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
conversational tone, with numerous changes of pitch.
Practise it until your delivery would cause a stranger
in the next room to think you were discussing an actual
incident with a friend, instead of delivering a memorized
monologue. If you are in doubt about the effect you have
secured, repeat it to a friend and ask him if it sounds like
memorized words. If it does, it is wrong.
A SIMILAR CASE
Jack, I hear you've gone and done it. — ^Yes, I know; most
fellows will; went and tried it once myself, sir, though you see
I'm single still. And you met her — did you tell me — down at
Newport, last July, and resolved to ask the question at a soiree?
So did I.
I suppose you left the ball-room, with its music and its light;
for they say love's flame is brightest in the darkness of the night.
Well, you walked along together, overhead the starlit sky; and
I'll bet — old man, confess it — you were frightened. So was I.
So you strolled along the terrace, saw the stunmer moonlight
pour all its radiance on the waters, as they rippled on the shore,
till at length you gathered courage, when you saw that none was
nigh — did you draw her close and tell her that you loved her?
So did I.
Well, I needn't ask you further, and I'm sure I wish you joy.
Think I'll wander down and see you when you're married — eh,
my boy? When the honeymoon is over and you're settled down,
we'll try — What? the deuce you say! Rejected — you rejected?
So was I. — Anonymous.
The necessity for changing pitch is so self-evident that
it should be grasped and applied immediately. However,
it requires patient drill to free yourself from monotony
of pitch.
In natural conversation you think of an idea first, and
then find words to express it. In memorized speeches
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PITCH 3 1
you are liable to speak the words, and then think what they
mean — and many speakers seem to trouble very little
even about that. Is it any wonder that reversing the
process should reverse the result? Get back to nature
in your methods of expression.
Read the following selection in a nonchalant manner,
never pausing to think what the words really mean. Try
it again, carefully studying the thought you have assimi-
lated. -Believe4lieidea,-xlesire to express.it efEectively,
and imagine an audience before you. Look them earnestly
in the face and repeat this truth. If you follow directions,
you will note that you have made many changes of pitch
after several readings.
It is not work that kills men; it is wony. Work is healthy;
you can hardly put more upon a man than he can bear. Worry is
rust upon the blade. It is not the revolution that destroys the
machinery but the friction. — Henry Ward Beecher.
Change of Pitch Prodtices Emphasis /^ ,
This is a highly important statement. Variety in pitch
maintains the hearer's interest, but one of the surest ways
to compel attention — to secure unusual emphasis — ^is
to change the pitch of your voice suddenly and in a marked
degree. A great contrast always arouses attention. White
shows whiter against black; a cannon roars louder in the
Sahara silence than in the Chicago hurly burly — these
are simple illustrations of the power of contrast.
"What is Congress going to do next?
(High pitch)
I do not know.'
(Low pitch)
32 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
By such sudden change of pitch during a sermon Dr.
Newell Dwight Hillis recently achieved great emphasis
and suggested the gravity of the question he had raised.
The foregoing order of pitch-change might be reversed
with equally good effect, though with a slight change in
seriousness — either method produces emphasis when used
intelligently, that is, with a common-sense appreciation
of the sort of emphasis to be attained.
In attempting these contrasts of pitch it is important
to avoid unpleasant extremes. Most speakers pitch their
voices too high. One of the secrets of Mr. Bryan's elo-
quence is his low, bell-like voice. Shakespeare said that
a soft, gentle, low voice was "an excellent thing in
woman;" it is no less so in man, for a voice need not be
blatant to be powerful, — and must not be, to be pleasing.
In closing, let us emphasize anew the importance of
using variety of pitch. You sing up and down the scale,
first touching one note and then another above or below
it. Do likewise in speaking.
Thought and individual taste must generally be your
guide as to where to use a low, a moderate, or a high pitch.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Name two methods of destroying monotony and
gaining force in speaking.
2. Why is a continual change of pitch necessary in
speaking?
3. Notice your habitual tones in speaking. Are they
too high to be pleasant?
4. Do we express the following thoughts and emotions
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PITCH 33
in a low or a high pitch? Which may be expressed in
either high or low pitch? Excitement. Victory. Defeat.
Sorrow. Love. Earnestness. Fear.
5. How would you naturally vary the pitch in intro-
ducing an explanatory or parenthetical expression like
the following:
He started — that is, he made preparations to start — on Septem-
ber third.
6. Speak the following lines with as marked variations
in pitch as your interpretation of the sense may dictate.
Try each line in two different ways. Which, in each
instance, is the more effective — and why?
What have I to gain from you? Nothing.
To engage our nation in such a compact would be an infamy.
Note: In the foregoing sentence, experiment as to where the
change in pitch would better be made.
Once the flowers distilled their fragrance here, but now see
the devastations of war.
He had reckoned without one prime factor — his conscience.
7. Make a diagram of a conversation you have heard,
showing where high and low pitches were used. Were these
changes in pitch advisable? Why or why not?
8. Read the selections on pages 34, 35, 36, 37 and
38, paying careful attention to the changes in pitch.
Reread, substituting low pitch for high, and vice versa.
Selections for Practise
Note: In the following selections, those passages that
may best be delivered in a moderate pitch are printed in
ordinary (roman) type. Those which may be rendered
34 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
in a high pitch — do not make the mistake of raising the
voice too high — are printed in italics. Those which might
well be spoken in a low pitch are printed in CAPITALS.
These arrangements, however, are merely suggestive —
we cannot make it strong enough that you must use your
own judgment in interpreting a selection. Before doing
so, however, it is well to practise these passages as they
are marked.
Yes, all men labor. RUFUS CHOATE AND DANIEL
WEBSTER labor, say the critics. But every man who reads
of the labor question knows that it means the movement of the
men that earn their living with their hands; THAT ARE EM-
PLOYED, AND PAID WAGES: are gathered under roofs of
factories, sent out on farms, sent out on ships, gathered on the walls.
In popular acceptation, the working class means the men that
work with their hands, for wages, so many hours a day, employed
by great capitalists; that work for everybody else. Why do we
move for this class? " Why," asks a critic, ''don't you move FOR
ALL WORKINGMEN?" BECAUSE, WHILE DANIEL
WEBSTER GETS FORTY THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR
ARGUING THE MEXICAN CLAIMS, there is no need of any-
body's moving for him. BECA USE, WHILE R UFUS CHOA TE
GETS FIVE THOUSAND DOLLARS FOR MAKING ONE
ARGUMENT TO A JURY, there is no need of moving for him, or
for the men that work with their brains, — that do highly disciplined
and skilled labor, invent, and write books. The reason why the
Labor movement confines itself to a single class is because that
class of work DOES NOT GET PAID, does not get protection.
MENTAL LABOR is adequately paid, and MORE THAN
A DEQ UA TEL Y protected. IT CAN SHIFT ITS CHA NNELS;
it can vary according to the supply and demand.
IF A MAN FAILS ASA MINISTER, why, he becomes a rail-
way conductor. IF THA T DOESN'T SUIT HIM, he goes West,
and becomes governor of a territory. AND IF HE FINDS HIM-
SELF INCAPABLE OF EITHER OF THESE POSITIONS,
he comes home, and gets to be a city editor. He varies his occupation
EFFICTENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PITCH 35
as he pleases, and doesn't need protection. B UT THE GREA T
MASS, CHAINED TO A TRADE, DOOMED TOBEGROUND
UP IN THE MILL OF SUPPLY AND DEMAND, THAT
WORK SO MANY HOURS A DA Y, AND MUST RUN IN
THE GREAT RUTS OF BUSINESS,— they are the men whose
inadequate protection, whose unfair share of the general product,
claims a movement in their behalf.
— Wendell Phillips.
KNOWING THE PRICE WE MUST PAY, THE SACRI-
FICE WE MUST MAKE, THE BURDENS WE MUST
CARRY, THE ASSAULTS WE MUST ENDURE— KNOW-
ING FULL WELL THE COST— yet we enlist, and we enlist
for the war. FOR WE KNOW THE JUSTICE OF OUR CA USE,
and we know, too, its certain triumph.
NOT RELUCTANTLY THEN, but eagerly, not with faint
hearts B UT STRONG, do we now advance upon the enemies of
the people. FOR THE CALL THAT COMES TO US is the
call that came to our fathers. As they responded so shall we.
''HE HATH SOUNDED FORTH A TRUMPET that
shall never call retreat.
HE IS SIFTING OUT THE HEARTS OF MEN before
His judgment seat.
OH, BE SWIFT OUR SOULS TO ANSWER HIM, BE
JUBILANT OUR FEET,
Our God is marching on."
— Albert J. Beveridge.
Remember that two sentences, or two parts of the same
sentence, which contain changes of thought, cannot pos-
sibly be given effectively in the same key. Let us repeat,
every big change of thought requires a big change of
pitch. What the beginning student will think are big
changes of pitch will be monotonously alike. Learn to
speak some thoughts in a very high tone — others in a
very, very low tone. DEVELOP RANGE. It is almost
impossible to use too much of it.
36 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
HAPPY AM I THAT THIS MISSION HAS BROUGHT
MY FEET AT LAST TO PRESS NEW ENGLAND'S HIS-
TORIC SOIL and my eyes to the knowledge of her beauty and her
thrift. Here within touch of Plymouth Rock and Bunker Hill —
WHERE WEBSTER THUNDERED and Longfellow sang, Emer-
son thought AND CHANNING PREACHED— HERE IN THE
CRADLE OF AMERICAN LETTERS and almost of American
liberty, I hasten to make the obeisance that every American owes
New England when first he stands uncovered in her mighty pres-
ence. Strange apparition! This stem and unique figure — carved
from the ocean and the wilderness — its majesty kindling and
growing amid the storms of winter and of wars — until at last
the gloom was broken, ITS BEAUTY DISCLOSED IN THE
SUNSHINE, and the heroic workers rested at its base — while
startled kings and emperors gazed and marveled that from the
rude touch of this handful cast on a bleak and unknown shore
should have come the embodied genius of human government
AND THE PERFECTED MODEL OF HUMAN LIBERTY!
God bless the memory of those immortal workers, and prosper
the fortunes of their living sons — ^and perpetuate the inspiration
of their handiwork
Far to the South, Mr. President, separated from this section
by a line — once defined in irrepressible difference, once traced in
fratricidal blood, AND NOW, THANK GOD, BUT A VANISH-
ING SHADOW — lies the fairest and richest domain of this earth.
It is the home of a brave and hospitable people. THERE IS
CENTERED ALL THAT CAN PLEASE OR PROSPER HU-
MANKIND. A PERFECT CLIMATE ABOVE a fertile soU
yields to the husbandman every product of the temperate zone.
There, by night the cotton whitens beneath the stars, and by day
THE WHEA T LOCKS THE SUNSHINE IN ITS BEARDED
SHEAF. In the same field the clover steals the fragrance
of the wind, and tobacco catches the quick aroma of the
rains. THERE ARE MOUNTAINS STORED WITH EX-
HAUSTLESS TREASURES: forests— vast and primeval; and
rivers that, tumbling or loitering, run wanton to the sea. Of the
three essential items of all industries — cotton, iron and wood
— that region has easy control. IN COTTON, a fixed monopoly —
IN IRON, proven supremacy— IN TIMBER, the reserve supply
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PITCH 37
0/ the Republic. From this assured and permanent advantage,
against which artificial conditions cannot much longer prevail,
has grown an amazing system of industries. Not maintained
by human contrivance of tariff or capital, afar off from the fullest
and cheapest source of supply, but resting in divine assurance,
within touch of field and mine and forest — not set amid costly
farms from which competition has driven the farmer in despair,
but amid cheap and sunny lands, rich with agriculture, to which
neither season nor soil has set a limit — this system of industries
is mounting to a splendor that shall dazzle and illumine the
world. THA T, SIR, is the picture and the promise of my home — A
LAND BETTER AND FAIRER THAN I HA VE TOLD YOU,
and yet but fit setting in its material excellence for the loyal and
gentle quality of its citizenship.
This hour little needs the LOYALTY THAT IS LOYAL TO
ONE SECTION and yet holds the other in enduring suspicion
and estrangement. Give us the broad and perfect loyalty that loves
and trusts GEORGIA alike with Massachusetts — that knows no
SOUTH, no North, no EAST, no West, but endears with equal
and patriotic love every foot of our soil, every State of our Union.
A MIGHTY DUTY, SIR, AND A MIGHTY INSPIRA-
TION impels every one of us to-night to lose in patriotic consecra-
tion WHATEVER ESTRANGES, WHATEVER DIVIDES.
WE, SIR, are Americans— AND WE STAND FOR HUMAN
LIBERTY! The uplifting force of the American idea is under
every throne on earth. France, Brazil— THESE ARE OUR
VICTORIES. To redeem the earth from kingcraft and oppression
—THIS IS OUR MISSION! AND WE SHALL NOT FAIL.
God has sown in our soil the seed of His millennial harvest, and
He will not lay the sickle to the ripening crop until His full and per-
fect day has come. O UR HISTOR Y, SIR, has been a constant and
expanding miracle, FROM PLYMOUTH ROCK AND JAMES-
TOWN, all the way — aye, even from the hour when from the
voiceless and traceless ocean a new world rose to the sight of the
inspired sailor. As we approach the fourth centennial of that
stupendous day — when the old world will come to marvel and
to learn amid our gathered treasures — let us resolve to crown the
miracles of our past with the spectacle of a Republic, compact, unit-
ed INDISSOLUBLE IN THE BONDS OF LOVE— lowing from
38 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the Lakes to the Gulf — the wounds of war healed in every heart
as on every hill, serene and resplendent AT THE SUMMIT OF
HUMAN ACHIEVEMENT AND EARTHLY GLORY, blazing
out the path and making clear the way up which all the nations
of the earth must come in God's appointed timet
— Henry W. Grady, The Race Problem.
. . . I WOULD CALL HIM NAPOLEON, but Napoleon
made his way to empire over broken oaths and through a sea of blood.
This man never broke his word. " No Retaliation " was his great
motto and the rule of his life; AND THE LAST WORDS
UTTERED TO HIS SON IN FRANCE WERE THESE: " My
boy, you will one day go back to Santo Domingo; forget that France
murdered your father.'' I WOULD CALL HIM CROMWELL.
but Cromwell was only a soldier, and the state he founded went down
with him into his grave. I WOULD CALL HIM WASHING-
TON, but the great Virginian held slaves. THIS MA N RISKED
HIS EMPIRE rather than permit the slave-trade in the humblest
village of his dominions.
YOU THINK ME A FANATIC TO-NIGHT, for you read
history, not with your eyes, BUT WITH YOUR PREJUDICES.
But fifty years hence, when Truth gets a hearing, the Muse of
History will put PHOCION for the Greek, and BRUTUS for the
Roman, HAMPDEN for England, LAFAYETTE for France,
choose WASHINGTON as the bright, consummate flower of
our EARLIER civilization, AND JOHN BROWN the ripe fruit
of our NOONDA Y, then, dipping her pen in the sunUght, will
write in the clear blue, above them all, the name of THE
SOLDIER, THE STATESMAN, THE MARTYR, TOUS-
SAINT L'OUVERTURE.
— Wendell Phillips, Toussaint I'Ouverture.
Drill on the following selections for change of pitch:
Beecher's "Abraham Lincohi," p. 76; Seward's "Ir-
repressible Conflict," p. 67; Everett's "History of Liberty,"
p. 78; Grady's "The Race Problem," p. 36; and Bev-
eridge's "Pass Prosperity Around," p. 470.
CHAPTER V
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE
Hear how he clears the points o' Faith
Wi' rattlin* an' thtimpin'!
Now meekly calm, now wild in wrath,
He's stampin' an' he's jumpin*.
— Robert Burns, Holy Fair.
The Latins have bequeathed to us a word that has no
precise equivalent in our tongue, therefore we have ac-
cepted it, body unchanged — it is the word tempo, and
means rate of movement, as measured by the time consumed
in executing that movement.
Thus far its use has been largely limited to the vocal
and musical arts, but it would not be surprising to hear
tempo applied to more concrete matters, for it perfectly
illustrates the real meaning of the word to say that an
ox-cart moves in slow tempo, an express train in a fast
tempo. Our guns that fire six himdred times a minute,
shoot at a fast tempo; the old muzzle loader that required
three minutes to load, shot at a slow tempo. Every
musician imderstands this principle: it requires longer
to sing a half note than it does an eighth note.
Now tempo is a tremendously important element in
good platform work, for when a speaker delivers a whole
address at very nearly the same rate of speed he is de-
priving himself of one of his chief means of emphasis
and power. The base-ball pitcher, the bowler in cricket,
40 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the tennis server, all know the value of change of pace —
change of tempo — in delivering their ball, and so must the
public speaker observe its power.
Change of Tempo Lends Naturalness to the Delivery ~^
Naturalness, or at least seeming naturalness, as was
explained in the chapter on "Monotony," is greatly to be
desired, and a continual change of tempo will go a long way
towards establishing it. Mr. Howard Lindsay, Stage
Manager for Miss Margaret Anglin, recently said to the
present writer that change of pace was one of the most
effective tools of the actor. While it must be admitted
that the stilted mouthings of many actors indicate cloudy
mirrors, still the public speaker would do well to study
the actor's use of tempo.
There is, however, a more fundamental and effective
source at which to study naturalness — a trait which, once
lost, is shy of recapture: that source is the common con-
versation of any well-bred circle. This is the standard
we strive to reach on both stage and platform — with cer-
tain differences, of course, which will appear as we go on.
If speaker and actor were to reproduce with absolute
fidelity every variation of utterance — every whisper,
grunt, pause, silence, and explosion — of conversation as we
find it typically in every-day life, much of the interest
would leave the public utterance. Naturalness in public
address is something more than faithful reproduction of
nature — ^it is the reproduction of those typical parts of
nature's work which are truly representative of the whole.
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE 41
The realistic story-writer understands this in writing
dialogue, and we must take it into account in seeking for
naturalness through change of tempo.
Suppose you speak the first of the following sentences
in a slow tempo, the second quickly, observing how natural
is the effect. Then speak both with the same rapidity and
note the difference.
I can't recall what I did with my knife. Oh, now I remember
I gave it to Mary.
We see here that a change of tempo often occurs in the
same sentence — for tempo applies not only to single words,
groups of words, and groups of sentences, but to the major
parts of a public speech as well.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. In the following, speak the words "long, long while"
very slowly; the rest of the sentence is spoken in
moderately rapid tempo.
When you and I behind the Veil are past,
Oh but the long, long while the world shall last,
Which of our coming and departure heeds,
As the seven seas should heed a pebble cast.
Note: In the following selections the passages that
should be given a fast tempo are in italics; those that
should be given in a slow tempo are in small capitals.
Practise these selections, and then try others, changing
from fast to slow tempo on different parts, carefully
noting the effect.
2. No MiRABEAu, Napoleon, Burns, Cromwell, no man
ADEQUATE tO DO ANYTHING but tS first of all in RIGHT EARNEST
42 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
about it — what I call a sincere man. I should say sincerity, a
GREAT, DEEP, GENUINE SINCERITY, is the first CHARACTERISTIC of
a man in any way heroic. Not the sincerity that calls itself
sincere. Ah no. That is a very poor matter indeed — A shallow,
BRAGGART, CONSCIOUS sincerity, oftenest self-conceit mainly.
The GREAT man's sincerity is of a kind he cannot speak of.
Is NOT conscious of. — Thomas Carlyle.
3. True worth is in being — not seeming — in doing each
day that goes by some little good, not in dreaming of great
things to do by and by. For whatever men say in their blindness,
and in spite of the follies of youth, there is nothing so kingly as
KINDNESS, and nothing so royal as truth. — Anonymous.
4. To get a natural effect, where would you use slow
and where fast tempo in the following?
FOOrS GOLD
See him there, cold and gray.
Watch him as he tries to play;
No, he doesn't know the way —
He began to leam too late.
She's a grim old hag, is Fate,
For she let him have his pile,
Smiling to herself the while.
Knowing what the cost would be,
When he'd found the Golden Key.
Multimillionaire is he,
Many times more rich than we;
But at that I wouldn't trade
With the bargain that he made.
Came here many years ago,
Not a person did he know;
Had the money-himger bad —
Mad for money, piggish mad;
Didn't let a joy divert him.
Didn't let a sorrow hurt him,
Let his friends and kin desert him.
While he planned and plugged and hurried
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE 43
On his quest for gold and power.
Every single wakeful hour
With a money thought he'd dower;
All the while as he grew older,
And grew bolder, he grew colder.
And he thought that some day
He would take the time to play;
But, say — he was wrong.
Life's a song;
In the spring
Youth can sing and can fling;
But joys wing
When we're older.
Like birds when it's colder.
The roses were red as he went rushing by,
And glorious tapestries hung in the sky,
And the clover was waving
'Neath honey-bees' slaving;
A bird over there
Roundelayed a soft air;
But the man couldn't spare
Time for gathering flowers,
Or resting in bowers,
Or gazing at skies
That gladdened the eyes.
So he kept on and swept on
Through mean, sordid years.
Now he's up to his ears
In the choicest of stocks.
He owns endless blocks
Of houses and shops,
And the stream never stops
Pouring into his banks.
I suppose that he ranks
Pretty near to the top.
What I have wouldn't sop
His ambition one tittle;
And yet with my little
I don't care to trade
44 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
With the bargain he made.
Just watch him to-day —
See him trying to play.
He's come back for blue skies,
But they're in a new guise —
Winter's here, all is gray,
The birds are away.
The meadows are brown.
The leaves lie aground,
And the gay brook that wound
With a swirling and whirling
Of waters, is furling
Its bosom in ice.
And he hasn't the price,
With all of his gold,
To buy what he sold.
He knows now the cost
Of the spring-time he lost.
Of the flowers he tossed
From his way.
And, say.
He'd pay
Any price if the day
Could be made not so gray.
He can't play.
— Herbert Kaufman. Used by permission
' of Everybody's Magazine.
"^^^^ change of Tempo Prevents Monotony
The canary in the cage before the window is adding to
the beauty and charm of his singing by a continual change
of tempo. If King Solomon had been an orator he imdoubt-
edly would have gathered wisdom from the song of the
wild birds as well as from the bees. Imagine a song
written with but quarter notes. Imagine an auto with
only one speed.
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE 4$
EXERCISES
1 . Note the change of tempo indicated in the following,
and how it gives a pleasing variety. Read it aloud. (Fast
tempo is indicated by italics, slow by small capitals.)
And he thought that some day he would take the time to play; hut,
say — HE WAS WRONG, life's a song; in the spring youth can
SING and can fling; but joys wing when we're older, like
THE birds when it's colder. The roses were red as he went rushing
by, and glorious tapestries hung in the sky.
2. Turn to "Fools Gold," on Page 42, and deliver it
in an unvaried tempo: note how monotonous is the re-
sult. This poem requires a great many changes of tempo,
and is an excellent one for practise.
3. Use the changes of tempo indicated in the following,
noting how they prevent monotony. Where no change
of tempo is indicated, use a moderate speed. Too much
of variety would really be a return to monotony.
THE MOB
"A MOB KILLS THE WRONG MAN" was flashed in a newspaper
headline lately. The mob is an irresponsible, unthinking mass.
It always destroys but never constructs. It criticises but never
creates.
Utter a great truth and the mob will hate you. See how it
condemned Dante to exile. Encounter the dangers of the unknown
world for its benefit, and the mob will declare you crazy. It
ridiculed COL UMB US, and for discovering a new world GA VE
HIM PRISON AND CHAINS.
Write a poem to thrill human hearts with pleasure, and the mob
WILL ALLOW YOU TO GO HUNGRY: THE BLIND HOMER BEGGED BREAD
THROUGH THE STREETS. Invent a machine to save labor and the
MOB WILL DECLARE YOU ITS EMENY. Less than a hundred years ago
a furious rabble smashed Thimonier's invention, the sewing machine.
Build a steamship to carry merchandise and accelerate
46 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
TRAVEL and the mob will call you a fool. A mob lined the shores
OF THE Hudson River to laugh at the maiden attempt of
"Fulton's Folly," as they called his little steamboat.
Emerson says: "A mob is a society of bodies voluntarily be-
reaving themselves of reason and traversing its work. The mob
is man voluntarily descended to the nature of the beast. Its
fit hour of activity is night, its actions are insane, like its
whole constitution. It persecutes a principle — it would whip a
right. It would tar and feather justice by inflicting fire and out-
rage upon the house and persons of those who have these."
The mob spirit stalks abroad in our land today. Every
week gives a fresh victim to its malignant cry for blood. There
were 48 persons killed by mobs in the United States in 1913; 64
in 1912, and 71 in 1911. Among the 48 last year were a woman
and a child. Two victims were proven innocent after their death.
In 399 B. c. a demagog appealed to the popular mob to
HAVE Socrates put to death and he was sentenced to the hemlock
cup. Fourteen hundred years afterward an enthusiast
APPEALED TO THE POPULAR MOB and all Europc plunged into the
Holy Land to kill and mangle the heathen. In the seventeenth
century a demagog appealed to the ignorance of men and twenty
PEOPLE WERE EXECUTED AT SaLEM, MaSS., WITHIN SIX MONTHS
FOR WITCHCRAFT. Two thousand years ago the mob yelled,
"RELEASE UNTO US BARABBAS"—AiiD Barabbas was a
murderer!
— From an Editorial by D. C. in "Leslie's Weekly," by permission.
Present-day business is as unlike old-time business as the
OLD-TIME OX-CART is Unlike the present-day locomotive. Invention
has made the whole world over again. The railroad, telegraph,
telephone have bound the people of modern nations into fam-
ilies. To do the business of these closely knit millions in every
modern country great business concerns came into being.
What we call big business is the child of the economic progress
of mankind. So warfare to destroy big business is foolish be-
cause IT CAN NOT succeed and wicked because it ought not
to succeed. Warfare to destroy big business does not hurt big
business, which always comes out on top, so much as it hurts
all other business which, in such a warfare, never comes
OUT on top. — A. J. Beveridge.
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE 47
Change of Tempo Produces Emphasis
Any big change of tempo is emphatic and will catch the
attention. You may scarcely be conscious that a passenger
train is moving when it is flying over the rails at ninety
miles an hour, but if it slows down very suddenly to a ten-
mile gait your attention will be drawn to it very decidedly.
You may forget that you are listening to music as you
dine, but let the orchestra either increase or diminish its
tempo in a very marked degree and your attention will
be arrested at once.
This same principle will procure emphasis in a speech.
If you have a point that you want to bring home to your
audience forcefully, make a sudden and great change of
tempo, and they will be powerless to keep from paying
attention to that point. Recently the present writer saw
a play in which these lines were spoken;
"I don't want you to forget what I said. I want you
to remember it the longest day you — I don't care if youVe
got six gims." The part up to the dash was delivered in
a very slow tempo, the remainder was flamed out at
lightning speed, as the character who was spoken to drew
a revolver. The effect was so emphatic that the lines
are remembered six months afterwards, while most of
the play has faded from memory. The student who
has powers of observation will see this principle applied
by all our best actors in their efforts to get emphasis
where emphasis is due. But remember that the emotion
in the matter must warrant the intensity in the manner,
or the effect will be ridiculous. Too many public speakers
are impressive over nothing.
48 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Thought rather than rules must govern you while
practising change of pace. It is often a matter of no con-
sequence which part of a sentence is spoken slowly and
which is given in fast tempo. The main thing to be de-
sired is the change itself. For example, in the selection,
"The Mob," on page 46, note the last paragraph. Re-
verse the instructions given, delivering everything that
is marked for slow tempo, quickly; and everything that
is marked for quick tempo, slowly. You will note that
the force or meaning of the passage has not been destroyed.
However, many passages cannot be changed to a slow
tempo without destroying their force. Instances: The
Patrick Henry speech on page no, and the following pas-
sage from Whittier's "Barefoot Boy."
O for boyhood's time of June, crowding years in one brief
moon, when all things I heard or saw, me, their master, waited
for. I was rich in flowers and trees, humming-birds and honey-
bees; for my sport the squirrel played; plied the snouted mole
his spade; for my taste the blackberry cone purpled over hedge
and stone; laughed the brook for my delight through the day
and through the night, whispering at the garden wall, talked with
me from fall to fall; mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond; mine
the walnut slopes beyond; mine, on bending orchard trees,
apples of Hesperides! Still, as my horizon grew, larger grew my
riches, too; all the world I saw or knew seemed a complex Chinese
toy, fashioned for a barefoot boy! — ^J. G. Whittier.
Be careful in regulating your tempo not to get your
movement too fast. This is a common fault with amateur
speakers. Mrs. Siddons rule was, "Take time." A hun-
dred years ago there was used in medical circles a prepa-
ration known as "the shot gim remedy;" it was a mix-
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE 49
ture of about fifty different ingredients, and was given
to the patient in the hope that at least one of them would
prove eflScacious! That seems a rather poor scheme for
medical practice, but it is good to use "shot gim" tempo
for most speeches, as it gives a variety. Tempo, like diet,
is best when mixed.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Define tempo.
2. What words come from the same root?
3. What is meant by a change of tempo?
4. What effects are gained by it?
5. Name three methods of destroying monotony and
gaining force in speaking.
6. Note the changes of tempo in a conversation or
speech that you hear. Were they well made? Why?
Illustrate.
7. Read selections on pages 34, 35, 36, 37, and $S,
paying careful attention to change of tempo.
8. As a rule, excitement, joy, or intense anger take a
fast tempo, while sorrow, and sentiments of great dignity
or solemnity tend to a slow tempo. Try to deliver Lin-
coln's Gettysburg speech (page 50), in a fast tempo, or
Patrick Henry's speech (page no), in a slow tempo, and
note how ridiculous the effect will be.
Practise the following selections, noting carefully
where the tempo may be changed to advantage.
Experiment, making numerous changes. Which one do
you like best?
50 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
DEDICATION OF GETTYSBURG CEMETERY
Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon
this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated
to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are
engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation — or any
nation so conceived and so dedicated — can long endure.
We are met on a great battlefield of that war. We are met to
dedicate a portion of it as the final resting-place of those who have
given their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether
fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot conse-
crate, we cannot hallow, this grotmd. The brave men, living and
dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our
power to add or to detract. The world will very little note nor
long remember what we say here; but it can never forget what
they did here.
It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the un-
finished work they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is rather
for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before
us: that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to
that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of de-
votion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not
have died in vain; that the nation shall, under God, have a new
birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the
people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
— Abraham Lincoln.
A PLEA FOR CUBA
(This deliberative oration was delivered by Senator Thurston in the United
States Senate on March 24, 1898. It is recorded in full in the Congressional
Record of that date. Mrs. Thurston died in Cuba. As a dying request she
urged her htisband, who was investigating affairs in the island, to do his utmost
to induce the United States to intervene — hence this oration.]
Mr. President, I am here by command of silent lips to speak
once and for all upon the Cuban situation. I shall endeavor to
be honest, conservative, and just. I have no purpose to stir
the public passion to any action not necessary and imperative
to meet the duties and necessities of American responsibility,
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE 5 1
Christian humanity, and national honor. I would shirk this task
if I could, but I dare not. I cannot satisfy my conscience except
by speaking, and speaking now.
I went to Cuba firmly believing that the condition of affairs
there had been greatly exaggerated by the press, and my own
efforts were directed in the first instance to the attempted ex-
posure of these supposed exaggerations. There has undoubtedly
been much sensationalism in the journalism of the time, but as
to the condition of affairs in Cuba, there has been no exaggera-
tion, because exaggeration has been impossible.
Under the inhuman policy of Weyler not less than four hundred
thousand self-supporting, simple, peaceable, defenseless country
people were driven from their homes in the agricultural portions
of the Spanish provinces to the cities, and imprisoned upon the
barren waste outside the residence portions of these cities and
within the lines of intrenchment established a little way beyond.
Their himible homes were burned, their fields laid waste, their
implements of husbandry destroyed, their live stock and food
supplies for the most part confiscated. Most of the people were
old men, women, and children. They were thus placed in hope-
less imprisonment, without shelter or food. There was no work
for them in the cities to which they were driven. They were left
with nothing to depend upon except the scanty charity of the
inhabitants of the cities and with slow starvation their inevit-
able fate. . . .
The pictures in the American newspapers of the starving recon-
centrados are true. They can all be duplicated by the thousands.
I never before saw, and please God I may never again see, so
deplorable a sight as the reconcentrados in the suburbs of Ma-
tanzas. I can never forget to my dying day the hopeless anguish
in their despairing eyes. Huddled about their little bark huts,
they raised no voice of appeal to us for alms as we went among
them. ...
Men, women, and children stand silent, famishing with hunger.
Their only appeal comes from their sad eyes, through which one
looks as through an open window into their agonizing souls.
The government of Spain has not appropriated and will not
appropriate one dollar to save these people. They are now be-
ing attended and nursed and administered to by the charity of
52 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the United States. Think of the spectacle ! We are feeding these
citizens of Spain; we are nursing their sick; we are saving such
as can be saved, and yet there are those who still say it is right
for us to send food, but we must keep hands ofiF. I say that the
time has come when muskets ought to go with the food.
We asked the governor if he knew of any relief for these
people except through the charity of the United States. He did
not. We asked him, "When do you think the time will come
that these people can be placed in a position of self-support?"
He replied to us, with deep feeling, "Only the good God or the
great government of the United States will answer that question."
I hope and believe that the good God by the great government
of the United States will answer that question.
I shall refer to these horrible things no further. They are there.
God pity me, I have seen them; they will remain in my mind
forever — and this is almost the twentieth century. Christ died
nineteen hundred years ago, and Spain is a Christian nation.
She has set up more crosses in more lands, beneath more skies,
and under them has butchered more people than all the other
nations of the earth combined. Europe may tolerate her exis-
tence as long as the people of the Old World wish. God grant
that before another Christmas morning the last vestige of Spanish
tyranny and oppression will have vanished from the Western
Hemisphere! . . .
The time for action has come. No greater reason for it can
exist to-morrow than exists to-day. Every hour's delay only
adds another chapter to the awful story of misery and death.
Only one power can intervene — the United States of America.
Ours is the one great nation in the world, the mother of American
republics. She holds a position of trust and responsibility toward
the peoples and affairs of the whole Western Hemisphere. It
was her glorious example which inspired the patriots of Cuba
to raise the flag of Uberty in her eternal hills. We cannot refuse
to accept this responsibility which the God of the universe has
placed upon us as the one great power in the New World. We
must act! What shall our action be?
Against the intervention of the United States in this holy
cause there is but one voice of dissent; that voice is the voice
of the money-changers. They fear war! Not because of any
EFFICIENCY THROUGH CHANGE OF PACE 53
Christian or ennobling sentiment against war and in favor of
peace, but because they fear that a declaration of war, or the
intervention which might result in war, would have a depressing
effect upon the stock market. Let them go. They do not repre-
sent American sentiment; they do not represent American
patriotism. Let them take their chances as they can. Their
weal or woe is of but little importance to the liberty-loving
people of the United States. They will not do the fighting ; their
blood will not flow; they will keep on dealing in options on human
life. Let the men whose loyalty is to the dollar stand aside while
the men whose loyalty is to the flag come to the front.
Mr. President, there is only one action possible, if any is
taken; that is, intervention for the independence of the island.
But we cannot intervene and save Cuba without the exercise
of force, and force means war; war means blood. The lowly
Nazarene on the shores of Galilee preached the divine doctrine
of love, "Peace on earth, good will toward men." Not peace on
earth at the expense of liberty and humanity. Not good will
toward men who despoil, enslave, degrade, and starve to death
their fellow-men. I believe in the doctrine of Christ. I believe
in the doctrine of peace; but, Mr. President, men must have
liberty before there can come abiding peace.
Intervention means force. Force means war. War means
blood. But it will be God's force. When has a battle for hu-
manity and liberty ever been won except by force? What barri-
cade of wrong, injustice, and oppression has ever been carried
except by force?
Force compelled the signature of unwilling royalty to the great
Magna Charta; force put life into the Declaration of Indepen-
dence and made effective the Emancipation Proclamation; force
beat with naked hands upon the iron gateway of the Bastile
and made reprisal in one awful hour for centuries of kingly crime;
force waved the flag of revolution over Bunker Hill and marked
the snows of Valley Forge with blood-stained feet; force held
the broken line of Shiloh, climbed the flame-swept hill at Chat-
tanooga, and stormed the clouds on Lookout Heights; force
marched with Sherman to the sea, rode with Sheridan in the
valley of the Shenandoah, and gave Grant victory at Appomat-
tox; force saved the Union, kept the stars in the flag, made
54 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
"niggers" men. The time for God's force has come again. Let
the impassioned lips of American patriots once more take up the
song: —
"In the beauty of the lilies, Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory' in His bosom that transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free.
While God is marching on."
Others may hesitate, others may procrastinate, others may
plead for further diplomatic negotiation, which means delay;
but for me, I am ready to act now, and for my action I am ready
to answer to my conscience, my country, and my God.
— James Mellen Thurston.
CHAPTER VI
PAUSE AND POWER
The true business of the literary artist is to plait or weave his
meaning, involving it around itself; so that each sentence, by
successive phrases, shall first come into a kind of knot, and then,
after a moment of suspended meaning, solve and clear itself.
— George Saintsbury, on English Prose
Style, in Miscellaneous Essays.
. . . pause . . . has a distinctive value, expressed in
silence; in other words, while the voice is waiting, the music
of the movement is going on ... To manage it, with its
delicacies and compensations, requires that same fineness of ear
on which we must depend for all faultless prose rhythm. When
there is no compensation, when the pause is inadvertent . . .
there is a sense of jolting and lack, as if some pin or fastening had
fallen out.
— John Franklin Genung, The Working
Principles of Rhetoric.
'Pause, in public speech, is not mere silence — it is
Xsilence made designedly eloquent.
When a man says: "I-uh-it is with profound-ah-pleas-
ure that-er-I have been permitted to speak to you tonight
and-uh-uh-I should say-er" — that is not pausing; that is
stumbling. It is conceivable that a speaker may be effec-
tive in spite of stiunbling — but never because of it.
On the other hand, one of the most important means
of developing power in public speaking is to pause either
before or after, or both before and after, an important,
word or phrase. No one who would be a forceful speaker
56 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
can afford to neglect this principle — one of the most
significant that has ever been inferred from listening to
great orators. Study this potential device until you have
absorbed and assimilated it.
It would seem that this principle of rhetorical pause
ought to be easily grasped and applied, but a long ex-
perience in training both college men and maturer speakers
has demonstrated that the device is no more readily under-
stood by the average man when it is first explained to him
than if it were spoken in Hindoostani. Perhaps this is
because we do not eagerly devour the fruit of experience
when it is impressively set before us on the platter of
authority; we like to pluck fruit for ourselves — it not
only tastes better, but we never forget that tree! For-
tunately, this is no difficult task, in this instance, for the
trees stand thick all about us.
One man is pleading the cause of another:
"This man, my friends, has made this wonderful sacrifice —
for you and me."
Did not the pause surprisingly enhance the power of
this statement? See how he gathered up reserve force
and impressiveness to deliver the words "for you and me."
Repeat this passage without making a pause. Did it lose
in effectiveness?
Naturally enough, during a premeditated pause of this
kind the mind of the speaker is concentrated on the
thought to which he is about to give expression. He will
not dare to allow his thoughts to wander for an instant — ^he
will rather supremely center his thought and his emotion
PAUSE AND POWER 57
upon the sacrifice whose service, sweetness and divinity
he is enforcing by his appeal.
Concentration, then, is the big word here — no paUs^
without it can perfectly hit the mark.
EiO&cient pausing accomplishes one or all of four results:
I. Pause Enables the Mind of the Speaker to Gather His
Forces Before Delivering the Final Volley
It is often dangerous to rush into battle without pausing
for preparation or waiting for recruits. Consider Custer's
massacre as an instance.
You can light a match by holding it beneath a lens and
concentrating the sim's rays. You would not expect the
match to flame if you jerked the lens back and forth
quickly. Pause, and the lens gathers the heat. Your
thoughts will not set fire to the minds of your hearers un-
less you pause to gather the force that comes by a second
or two of concentration. Maple trees and gas wells are
rarely tapped continually; when a stronger flow is wanted,
a pause is made, nature has time to gather her reserve
forces, and when the tree or the well is reopened, a
stronger flow is the result.
Use the same common sense with your mind. If you
would make a thought particularly effective, pause just
before its utterance, concentrate your mind-energies, and
then give it expression with renewed vigor. Carlyle was
right; "Speak not, I passionately entreat thee, till thy
thought has silently matured itself. Out of silence comes
thy strength. Speech is silvern. Silence is golden ; Speech
is human. Silence is divine."
58 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Silence has been called the father of speech. It should
be. Too many of our public speeches have no fathers.
They ramble along without pause or break. Like Tenny-
son's brook, they run on forever. Listen to little children,
the policeman on the corner, the family conversation
around the table, and see how many pauses they naturally
use, for they are unconscious of effects. When we get
before an audience, we throw most of our natural methods
of expression to the wind, and strive after artificial effects.
Get back to the methods of nature — and pause.
2. Pause Prepares the Mind of the Auditor to Receive
Your Message
Herbert Spencer said that all the universe is in motion/
So it is — and all perfect motion is rhythm. Part of rhythm
is rest. Rest follows activity all through nature. In-
stances: day and night; spring — summer — autumn —
winter; a period of rest between breaths; an instant of
complete rest between heart beats. Pause, and give the
attention-powers of your audience a rest. What you say
after such a silence will then have a great deal more effect.
When your country cousins come to town, the noise
of a passing car will awaken them, though it seldom affects
a seasoned city dweller. By the continual passing of cars
his attention-power has become deadened. In one who
visits the city but seldom, attention-value is insistent.
To him the noise comes after a long pause; hence its
power. To you, dweller in the city, there is no pause;
hence the low attention-value. After riding on a train
PAUSE AND POWER 59
several hours you will become so accustomed to its roar
that it will lose its attention- value, unless the train should
stop for a while and start again. If you attempt to listen
to a clock-tick that is so far away that you can barely
hear it, you will find that at times you are unable to dis-
tinguish it, but in a few moments the sound becomes dis-
tinct again. Your mind will pause for rest whether you
desire it to do so or not.
The attention of your audience will act in quite the
same way. Recognize this law and prepare for it — by
pausing. Let it be repeated: the thought that follows a
pause is much more dynamic than if no pause had oc-
curred. What is said to you of a night will not have the
same effect on your mind as if it had been uttered in the
morning when your attention had been lately refreshed by
the pause of sleep. We are told on the first page of the
Bible that even the Creative Energy of God rested on the
"seventh day.*' You may be sure, then, that the frail
finite mind of your audience will likewise demand rest.
Observe nature, study her laws, and obey them in your
speaking.
\
3. Pause Creates Effective Suspense
Suspense is responsible for a great share of our interest
in life; it will be the same with your speech. A play or a
novel is often robbed of much of its interest if you know
the plot beforehand. We like to keep guessing as to the
outcome. The ability to create suspense is part of wo-
man's power to hold the other sex. The circus acrobat
employs this principle when he fails purposely in several
6o THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
attempts to perform a feat, and then achieves it. Even
the deliberate manner in which he arranges the pre-
liminaries increases our expectation — we like to be kept
waiting. In the last act of the play, " Polly of the Circus,"
there is a circus scene in which a little dog turns a backward
somersault on the back of a running pony. On nights
when he hesitated and had to be coaxed and worked with
a long time before he would perform his feat he got a great
deal more applause than when he did his trick at once.
We not only like to wait but we appreciate what we wait
for. If fish bite too readily the sport soon ceases to be
a sport.
It is this same principle of suspense that holds you in a
Sherlock Holmes story — you wait to see how the mystery
is solved, and if it is solved too soon you throw down the
tale unfinished. Wilkie Collins' receipt for fiction writing
well applies to public speech: " Make 'em laugh; make 'em
weep; make 'em wait." Above all else make them wait;
if they will not do that you may be sure they will neither
laugh nor weep.
Thus pause is a valuable instrument in the hands of a
trained speaker to arouse and maintain suspense. We once
heard Mr. Bryan say in a speech: "It was my privilege
to hear" — and he paused, while the audience wondered
for a second whom it was his privilege to hear — "the
great evangelist" — and he paused again; we knew a little
more about the man he had heard, but still wondered to
which evangelist he referred; and then he concluded:
"Dwight L. Moody." Mr. Bryan paused slightly again
and continued: "I came to regard him" — here he paused
PAUSE AND POWER 6l
again and held the audience in a brief moment of suspense
as to how he had regarded Mr. Moody, then continued —
"as the greatest preacher of his day." Let the dashes
illustrate pauses and we have the following:
"It was my privilege to hear — the great evangelist — D wight
L. Moody. — I came to regard him — as the greatest preacher of
his day."
The unskilled speaker would have rattled this off with
neither pause nor suspense, and the sentences would have
fallen flat upon the audience. It is precisely the applica-
tion of these small things that makes much of the difference
between the successful and the unsuccessful speaker.
4. Pausing After An Important Idea Gives it Time to
Penetrate
Any Missouri farmer will tell you that a rain that falls
too fast will run off into the creeks and do the crops but
little good. A story is told of a country deacon praying
for rain in this manner: "Lord, don't send us any chunk
floater. Just give us a good old drizzle-drazzle." A
speech, like a rain, will not do anybody much good if it
comes too fast to soak in. The farmer's wife follows this
same principle in doing her washing when she puts the
clothes in water — and pauses for several hours that the
water may soak in. The physician puts cocaine on your
turbinates — and pauses to let it take hold before he re-
moves them. Why do we use this principle everywhere
except in the communication of ideas? If you have given
the audience a big idea, pause for a second or two and let
\
62 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
them turn it over. See what effect it has. After the smoke
clears away you may have to fire another 14-inch shell on
the same subject before you demolish the citadel of error
that you are trying to destroy. Take time. Don't let
your speech resemble those tourists who try "to do"
New York in a day. They spend fifteen minutes looking
at the masterpieces in the MetropoUtan Museum of Arts,
ten minutes in the Museum of Natural History, take a
peep into the Aquarium, hurry across the Brooklyn
Bridge, rush up to the Zoo, and back by Grant's Tomb —
and call that "Seeing New York." If you hasten by your
important points without pausing, your audience will
have just about as adequate an idea of what you have
tried to convey.
Take time, you have just as much of it as our richest
multimillionaire. Your audience will wait for you. It is
a sign of smallness to hurry. The great redwood trees of
California had burst through the soil five hundred years
before Socrates drank his cup of hemlock poison, and are
only in their prime today. Nature shames us with our
petty haste. Silence is one of the most eloquent things in
the world. Master it, and use it through pause.
In the following selections dashes have been inserted
where pauses may be used effectively. Naturally, you
may omit some of these and insert others without going
wrong — one speaker would interpret a passage in one
way, one in another; it is largely a matter of personal pref-
erence. A dozen great actors have played Hamlet well,
and yet each has played the part differently. Which
PAUSE AND POWER 63
comes the nearest to perfection is a question of opinion.
You will succeed best by daring to follow your own course
— if you are individual enough to blaze an original trail.
A moment's halt — a momentary taste of being from the well
amid the waste — and lo! the phantom caravan has reached —
the nothing it set out from — Oh make haste !
The worldly hope men set their hearts upon — turns ashes —
or it prospers; — and anon like snow upon the desert's dusty face —
lighting a little hour or two — ^is gone.
The bird of time has but a little way to flutter, — and the bird
is on the wing.
You will note that the punctuation marks have nothing
to do with the pausing. You may run by a period very
quickly and make a long pause where there is no kind of
punctuation. Thought is greater than punctuation. It
must guide you in your pauses.
A book of verses underneath the bough, — a jug of wine, a
loaf of bread — and thou beside me singing in the wilderness —
Oh — wilderness were paradise enow.
You must not confuse the pause for emphasis with the
natural pauses that come through taking breath and
phrasing. For example, note the pauses indicated in
this selection from B)n:on:
But hush! — harki — that deep sound breaks in once more,
And nearer! — clearer! — deadlier than before.
Arm, arm! — it is — it is the cannon's opening roar!
It is not necessary to dwell at length upon these obvious
distinctions. You will observe that in natural conversa-
tion our words are gathered into clusters or phrases, and
64 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
we often pause to take breath between them. So in public
speech, breathe naturally and do not talk until you must
gasp for breath; nor until the audience is equally winded.
A serious word of caution must here be uttered: do not
overwork the pause. To do so will make your speech
heavy and stilted. And do not think that pause can trans-
mute commonplace thoughts into great and dignified
utterance. A grand manner combined with insignificant
ideas is like harnessing a Hambletonian with an ass.
You remember the farcical old school declamation, "A
Midnight Murder," that proceeded in grandiose man-
ner to a thrilling climax, and ended — "and relentlessly
murdered — a mosquito!"
The pause, dramatically handled, always drew a laugh
from the tolerant hearers. This is all very well in farce,
but such anti-climax becomes painful when the speaker
falls from the sublime to the ridiculous quite unintention-
ally. The pause, to be effective in some other manner than
in that of the boomerang, must precede or follow a thought
that is really worth while, or at least an idea whose bearing
upon the rest of the speech is important.
William Pittenger relates in his volume, "Extempore
Speech," an instance of the unconsciously farcical use of
the pause by a really great American statesman and orator.
"He had visited Niagara Falls and was to make an oration
at Buffalo the same day, but, unfortunately, he sat too
long over the wine after dinner. When he arose to speak,
the oratorical instinct struggled with difficulties, as he
declared, * Gentlemen, I have been to look upon your mag-
mag— magnificent cataract, one hundred— and forty— seven
PAUSE AND POWER 65
-feet high ! Gentlemen, Greece and Rome in their palmiest
days never had a cataract one hundred-and forty-seven-
feet high! ^"
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Name four methods for destroying monotony and
gaining power in speaking.
2. What are the four special effects of pause?
3. Note the pauses in a conversation, play, or speech.
Were they the best that could have been used? Illustrate.
4. Read aloud selections on pages 50—54, paying
special attention to pause.
5. Read the following without making any pauses.
Reread correctly and note the difference:
Soon the night will pass; and when, of the Sentinel on the ram-
parts of Liberty the anxious ask: | "Watchman, what of the
night?" his answer will be | "Lo, the mom appeareth."
Knowing the price we must pay, | the sacrifice | we must
make, | the burdens | we must carry, | the assaults | we must en-
dure, I knowing full well the cost, | yet we enlist, and we enlist | for
the war. | For we know the justice of our cause, | and we know,
too, its certain triumph. |
Not reluctantly, then, | but eageriy, | not with faint hearts, | but
strong, do we now advance upon the enemies of the people. | For
the call that comes to us is the call that came to our fathers. | As
they responded, so shall we.
"He hath sounded forth a trumpet | that shall never
call retreat.
He is sifting out the hearts of men | before His judgment
seat.
Oh, be swift | our souls to answer Him, | be jubilant
our feet,
Our God I is marching on."
— Albert J. Beveridge, From his speech as temporary chair-
man of Progressive National Convention, Chicago, 1912.
66 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
6. Bring out the contrasting ideas in the following by
using the pause:
Contrast now the circumstances of your life and mine, gently
and with temper, ^Eschines; and then ask these people whose
fortune they would each of them prefer. You taught reading,
I went to school: you performed initiations, I received them:
you danced in the chorus, I furnished it: you were assembly-
clerk, I was a speaker: you acted third parts, I heard you: you
broke down, and I hissed: you have worked as a statesman for
the enemy, I for my coimtry. I pass by the rest; but this very
day I am on my probation for a crown, and am acknowledged
to be innocent of all offence; while you are already judged to be
a pettifogger, and the question is, whether you shall continue
that trade, or at once be silenced by not getting a fifth part of
the votes. A happy fortune, do you see, you have enjoyed, that
you should denounce mine as miserable! — Demosthenes.
7. After careful study and practice, mark the pauses
in the following:
The past rises before me like a dream. Again we are in the
great struggle for national life. We hear the sounds of prepara-
tion— the music of the boisterous drums, the silver voices of
heroic bugles. We see thousands of assemblages, and hear the
appeals of orators; we see the pale cheeks of women and the
flushed faces of men; and in those assemblages we see all the
dead whose dust we have covered with flowers. We lose sight
of them no more. We are with them when they enlist in the great
army of freedom. We see them part from those they love. Some
are walking for the last time in quiet woody places with the maidens
they adore. We hear the whisperings and the sweet vows of
eternal love as they lingeringly part forever. Others are bending
over cradles, kissing babies that are asleep. Some are receiving
the blessings of old men. Some are parting from those who hold
them and press them to their hearts again and again, and say
nothing; and some are talking with wives, and endeavoring with
brave words spoken in the old tones to drive from their hearts the
awftd fear. We see them part. We see the wife standing in the
PAUSE AND POWER 67
door, with the babe in her arms — standing in the sunlight sobbing;
at the turn of the road a hand waves — she answers by holding
high in her loving hands the child. He is gone — and forever.
— Robert J. Ingersoll, to the Soldiers of Indianapolis,
8. Where would you pause in the following selections?
Try pausing in different places and note the effect it gives.
The moving finger writes; and having writ moves on: nor
all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
The history of womankind is a story of abuse. For ages men
beat, sold, and abused their wives and daughters like cattle. The
Spartan mother that gave birth to one of her own sex disgraced
herself; the girl babies were often deserted in the mountains to
starve; China bound and deformed their feet; Turkey veiled
their faces; America denied them equal educational advantages
with men. Most of the world still refuses them the right to par-
ticipate in the government and everywhere women bear the
brunt of an unequal standard of morality.
But the women are on the march. They are walking upward
to the sunlit plains where the thinking people rule. China
has ceased binding their feet. In the shadow of the Harem
Turkey has opened a school for girls. America has given the
women equal educational advantages, and America, we believe,
will enfranchise them.
We can do Uttle to help and not much to hinder this great
movement. The thinking people have put their O. K. upon it.
It is moving forward to its goal just as surely as this old earth
is swinging from the grip of winter toward the spring's blossoms
and the summer's harvest.^
9. Read aloud the following address, paying careful
attention to pause wherever the emphasis may thereby
be heightened.
THE IRREPRESSIBLE CONFLICT
... At last, the Republican party has appeared. It avows, now,
iFrom an editorial by D, C. in Leslie's Weekly, June 4, 1914. Used by
permission.
68 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
as the Republican party of 1800 did, in one word, its faith and
its works, "Equal and exact justice to all men." Even when it
first entered the field, only half organized, it struck a blow which
only just failed to secure complete and triumphant victory.
In this, its second campaign, it has already won advantages
which render that triumph now both easy and certain. The
secret of its assured success lies in that very characteristic which,
in the mouth of scoffers, constitutes its great and lasting imbecil-
ity and reproach. It lies in the fact that it is a party of one idea;
but that is a noble one — an idea that fills and expands all gen-
erous souls; the idea of equaUty of all men before human tri-
bimals and human laws, as they all are equal before the Divine
tribunal and Divine laws.
I know, and you know, that a revolution has begun. I know,
and all the world knows, that revolutions never go backward.
Twenty senators and a hundred representatives proclaim boldly
in Congress to-day sentiments and opinions and principles of
freedom which hardly so many men, even in this free State,
dared to utter in their own homes twenty years ago. While the
government of the United States, imder the conduct of the Demo-
cratic party, has been all that time surrendering one plain and
castle after another to slavery, the people of the United States
have been no less steadily and perseveringly gathering together
the forces with which to recover back again all the fields and all
the castles which have been lost, and to confound and overthrow,
by one decisive blow, the betrayers of the Constitution and free-
dom forever. — ^W. H. Seward.
CHAPTER VII
EFFICIENCY THROUGH INFLECTION
A
How soft the music of those village bells,
Falling at intervals upon the ear
In cadence sweet; now dying all away,
Now pealing loud again, and louder still,
Clear and sonorous, as the gale comes on!
With easy force it opens all the cells
Where Memory slept.
— William Cowper, The Task.
Herbert Spencer remarked that "Cadence" — ^by which
he meant the modulation of the tones of the voice in
speaking — "is the running commentary of the emotions
upon the propositions of the intellect." How true this is
will appear when we reflect that the little upward and
downward shadings of the voice tell more truly what we
mean than our words. The expressiveness of language
is literally multiplied by this subtle power to shade the
vocal tones, and this voice-shading we call inflection.
The change of pitch within a word is even more im- ^
portant, because more dehcate, than the change of pitch f
from phrase to phrase. Indeed, one cannot be practised
without the other. The bare words are only so many
bricks — inflection will make of them a pavement, a garage,
or a cathedral. It is the power of inflection to change the
meaning of words that gave birth to the old saying: "It
is not so much what you say, as how you say it."
Mrs. Jameson, the Shakespearean commentator, has
70 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
given us a penetrating example of the effect of inflection:
"In her impersonation of the part of Lady Macbeth, Mrs.
Siddons adopted successively three different intonations
in giving the words ' We fail. ' At first a quick contemp-
tuous interrogation — 'We fail?* Afterwards, with the
note of admiration — 'We fail,' an accent of indignant
astonishment laying the principal emphasis on the word
'we' — 'we fail. ' Lastly, she fixed on what I am convinced
is the true reading — We fail — with the simple period,
modulating the voice to a deep, low, resolute tone which
settles the issue at once as though she had said: 'If we
fail, why then we fail, and all is over. ' "
This most expressive element of our speech is the last
to be mastered in attaining to naturalness in speaking a
foreign language, and its correct use is the main element in
a natural, flexible utterance of our native tongue. Without
varied inflections speech becomes wooden and monotonous.
"'" There are but two kinds of inflection, the rising and the
falling, yet these two may be so shaded or so combined
that they are capable of producing as many varieties of
modulation as may be illustrated by either one or two
lines, straight or curved, thus:
Sharp rising ^ y
Long rising ^^ ^\y
Level — _-.
Long falling "^V^ '^
Sharp falling >^ ^*^
Sharp rising and falling /S^ ^^
Sharp falling and rising \> ^*-^
Hesitating
EFFICIENCY THROUGH INFLECTION 71
These may be varied indefinitely, and serve merely to
illustrate what wide varieties of combination may be
effected by these two simple inflections of the voice.
It is impossible to tabulate the various inflections which
serve to express various shades of thought and feeling.
A few suggestions are offered here, together with abundant
exercises for practise, but the only real way to master in-
flection is to observe, experiment, and practise.
For example, take the common sentence, "Oh, he's all
right." Note how a rising inflection may be made to ex-
press faint praise, or pohte doubt, or imcertainty of
opinion. Then note how the same words, spoken with a
generally faUing inflection may denote certainty, or good-
natured approval, or enthusiastic praise, and so on.
In general, then, we find that a bending upward of the
voice will suggest doubt and uncertainty, while a decided
falling inflection will suggest that you are certain of
your ground.
Students dislike to be told that their speeches are "not
so bad," spoken with a rising inflection. To enimciate
these words with a long falling inflection would indorse
the speech rather heartily.
Say good-bye to an imaginary person whom you expect
to see again tomorrow; then to a dear friend you never
expect to meet again. Note the difference in inflection.
"I have had a delightful time," when spoken at the
termination of a formal tea by a frivolous woman takes
altogether different inflection than the same words spoken
between lovers who have enjoyed themselves. Mimic the
two characters in repeating this and observe the difference.
72 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Note how light and short the inflections are in the follow-
ing brief quotation from "Anthony the Absolute," by
Samuel Mervin.
At Sea— March 28th.
This evening I told Sir Robert What's His Name he was a fool.
I was quite right in this. He is.
Every evening since the ship left Vancouver he has presided
over the round table in the middle of the smoking-room. There
he sips his coffee and liqueur, and holds forth on every subject
known to the mind of man. Each subject is his subject. He
is an elderly person, with a bad face and a drooping left eyelid.
They tell me that he is in the British Service — a judge some-
where down in Malaysia, where they drink more than is good for
them.
Deliver the two following selections with great earnest-
ness, and note how the inflections differ from the fore-
going. Then reread these selections in a light, superficial
manner, noting that the change of attitude is expressed
through a change of inflection.
When I read a sublime fact in Plutarch, or an unselfish deed
in a line of poetry, or thrill beneath some heroic legend, it is no
longer fairyland — I have seen it matched. — ^Wendell Phillips.
Thought is deeper than all speech,
Feeling deeper than all thought;
Souls to souls can never teach
What unto themselves was taught.
— Cranch.
It must be made perfectly clear that inflection deals ^
mostly in subtle, delicate shading within single words^
and is not by any means accomplished by a general rise
or fall in the voice in speaking a sentence. Yet certain
sentences may be effectively delivered with just such in-
flection. Try this sentence in several ways, making no
EFFICIENCY THROUGH INFLECTION
73
modulation until you come to the last two syllables, as
indicated,
And yet I told him dis-
(high)
tinctly.
(low)
tinctly.
And yet I told him dis-
(low)
(high)
Now try this sentence by inflecting the important
words so as to bring out various shades of meaning. The
first forms,' illustrated above, show change of pitch within
a single word; the forms you will work out for yourself
should show a number of such inflections throughout the
sentence.
One of].the7chief means of securing emphasis is to em-
ploy a long falling inflection on the emphatic words —
that is, to let the voice fall to a lower pitch on an interior
vowel sound in a word. Try it on the words "every,"
"eleemosynary," and "destroy."
Use long falling inflections on the italicized words in the
following selection, noting their emphatic power. Are
there any other words here that long falling inflections
would help to make expressive?
ADDRESS IN THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE
This, sir, is my case. It is the case not merely of that humble
institution; it is the case of every college in our land. It is more;
74 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
it is the case of every eleemosynary institution throughout our
country — of all those great charities founded by the piety of our
ancestors to alleviate human misery and scatter blessings along
the pathway of life. Sir, you may destroy this little institution —
it is weak, it is in your hands. I know it is one of the lesser lights
in the literary horizon of our country. You may put it out. But
if you do you must carry through your work; you must ex-
tinguish, one after another, all those great lights of science which,
for more than a century, have thrown their radiance over our
land!
It is, sir, as I have said, a small college, and yet — there are
those who love it!
Sir, I know not how others may feel, but as for myself when I
see my alma mater surrotmded, like Caesar in the senate house,
by those who are reiterating stab after stab, I would not for this
right hand have her turn to me and say. And thou, too, my son!
— Daniel Webster.
Be careful not to over-inflect. Too much modulation
produces an unpleasant effect of artificiality, like a mature
matron trying to be kittenish. It is a short step between
true expression and unintentional burlesque. Scrutinize
your own tones. Take a single expression like "Oh,
no!" or "Oh, I see," or "Indeed," and by patient self-
examination see how many shades of meaning may be ex-
pressed by inflection. This sort of common-sense practise
will do you more good than a book of rules. But don't
forget to listen to your own voice.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. In your own words define (a) cadence, (b) modula-
tion, (c) inflection, (d) emphasis.
2. Name five ways of destroying monotony and gaining
effectiveness in speech.
EFFiaENCY THROUGH INFLECTION 75
3. What states of mind does falling inflection signify?
Make as full a list as you can.
4. Do the same for the rising inflection.
5. How does the voice bend in expressing (a) surprise?
(b) shame? (c) hate? (d) formality? (e) excitement?
6. Reread some sentence several times and by using
different inflections change the meaning with each reading.
7. Note the inflections employed in some speech or con-
versation. Were they the best that could be used to bring
out the meaning? Criticise and illustrate.
8. Render the following passages:
Has the gentleman done? Has he completely done?
And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.
9. Invent an indirect question and show how it would
naturally be inflected.
10. Does a direct question always require a rising
inflection? Illustrate.
11. Illustrate how the complete ending of an expres-
sion or of a speech is indicated by inflection.
12. Do the same for incompleteness of idea.
13. Illustrate (a) trembUng, (b) hesitation, and (c)
doubt by means of inflection.
14. Show how contrast may be expressed.
15. Try the effects of both rising and falling inflections
on the itaUcized words in the following sentences. State
your preference.
Gentlemen, I am persuaded, nay, I am resolved to speak.
It is sown a natural body; it is raised a spiritual body.
76 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE
In the following selections secure emphasis by means
of long falling inflections rather than loudness.
Repeat these selections, attempting to put into prac-
tise all the technical principles that we have thus far had:
emphasizing important words, subordinating unimport-
ant words, variety of pitch, changing tempo, pause, and
inflection. If these principles are applied you will have
no trouble with monotony.
Constant practise will give great facility in the use of
inflection and will render the voice itself flexible.
CHARLES I
We charge him with having broken his coronation oath; and
we are told that he kept his marriage vow! We accuse him of
having given up his people to the merciless inflictions of the most
hot-headed and hard-hearted of prelates; and the defence is,
that he took his little son on his knee and kissed him! We cen-
sure him for having violated the articles of the Petition of Right,
after having, for good and valuable consideration, promised to
observe them; and we are informed that he was accustomed to
hear prayers at six o'clock in the morning ! It is to such considera-
tions as these, together with his Vandyke dress, his handsome
face, and his peaked beard, that he owes, we verily believe, most
of his popularity with the present generation.
— T. B. Macaulay.
ABRAHAM LINCOLN
We needed not that he should put on paper that he believed
in slavery, who, with treason, with murder, with cruelty infernal,
hovered around that majestic man to destroy his life. He was
himself but the long sting with which slavery struck at liberty;
and he carried the poison that belonged to slavery. As long as
this nation lasts, it will never be forgotten that we have one
EFFICIENCY THROUGH INFLECTION 77
martyred President — never! Never, while time lasts, while
heaven lasts, while hell rocks and groans, will it be forgotten that
slavery, by its minions, slew him, and in slaying him made mani-
fest its whole nature and tendency.
But another thing for us to remember is that this blow was
aimed at the life of the government and of the nation. Lincoln
was slain; America was meant. The man was cast down; the
government was smitten at. It was the President who was
killed. It was national life, breathing freedom and meaning
beneficence, that was sought. He, the man of Illinois, the pri-
vate man, divested of robes and the insignia of authority, repre-
senting nothing but his personal self, might have been hated;
but that would not have called forth the murderer's blow. It
was because he stood in the place of government, representing
government and a government that represented right and liberty,
that he was singled out.
This, then, is a crime against imiversal government. It is
not a blow at the foundations of our government, more than at
the foundations of the English government, of the French govern-
ment, of every compact and well-organized government. It was
a crime against mankind. The whole world will repudiate and
stigmatize it as a deed without a shade of redeeming light. . .
The blow, however, has signally failed. The cause is not strick-
en; it is strengthened. This nation has dissolved, — but in tears
only. It stands, four-square, more solid, to-day, than any
pyramid in Egypt. This people are neither wasted, nor daunted,
nor disordered. Men hate slavery and love liberty with stronger
hate and love to-day than ever before. The Government is
not weakened, it is made stronger. . . .
And now the martyr is moving in triimiphal march, mightier
than when alive. The nation rises up at every stage of his com-
ing. Cities and states are his pall-bearers, and the cannon beats
the hours with solemn progression. Dead — dead — dead — he yet
speaketh! Is Washington dead? Is Hampden dead? Is David
dead? Is any man dead that ever was fit to live? Disenthralled
of flesh, and risen to the unobstructed sphere where passion
never comes, he begins his illimitable work. His life now
is grafted upon the Infinite, and will be fruitful as no earthly
life can be. Pass on, thou that hast overcome! Your sorrows*
78 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
O people, are his peace! Your bells, and bands, and muffled
drums sound triumph in his ear. Wail and weep here;
God makes it echo joy and triumph there. Pass on, thou
victor!
Four years ago, O Illinois, we took from your midst an untried
man, and from among the people; we return him to you a mighty
conqueror. Not thine any more, but the nation's; not ours, but
the world's. Give him place, ye prairies! In the midst of this
great Continent his dust shall rest, a sacred treasure to myriads
who shall make pilgrimage to that shrine to kindle anew their
zeal and patriotism. Ye winds, that move over the mighty
places of the West, chant his requiem! Ye people, behold a mar-
tyr, whose blood, as so many inarticulate words, pleads for fidelity,
for law, for liberty! — Henry Ward Beecher.
THE HISTORY OF LIBERTY
The event which we commemorate is all-important, not merely
in our own annals, but in those of the world. The sententious
English poet has declared that "the proper study of mankind
is man," and of all inquiries of a temporal nature, the history
of our fellow-beings is unquestionably among the most interest-
ing. But not all the chapters of human history are alike import-
ant. The annals of our race have been filled up with incidents
which concern not, or at least ought not to concern, the great
company of mankind. History, as it has often been written,
is the genealogy of princes, the field-book of conquerors; and the
fortunes of our fellow-men have been treated only so far as they
have been affected by the influence of the great masters and des-
troyers of our race. Such history is, I will not say a worthless
study, for it is necessary for us to know the dark side as well as
the bright side of our condition. But it is a melancholy study
which fills the bosom of the philanthropist and the friend of
liberty with sorrow.
But the history of liberty — the history of men struggling to be
free — the history of men who have acquired and are exercising
their freedom — the history of those great movements in the world,
by which liberty has been established and perpetuated, forms a
subject which we cannot contemplate too closely. This is the
EFFiaENCY THROUGH INFLECTION 79
real history of man, of the human family, of rational immortal
beings. . . .
The trial of adversity was theirs; the trial of prosperity is
ours. Let us meet it as men who know their duty and prize their
blessings. Our position is the most enviable, the most responsi-
ble, which men can fiU. If this generation does its duty, the cause
of constitutional freedom is safe. If we fail — if we fail — not only
do we defraud our children of the inheritance which we received
from our fathers, but we blast the hopes of the friends of liberty
throughout our continent, throughout Europe, throughout the
world, to the end of time.
History is not without her examples of hard-fought fields, where
the banner of Uberty has floated triumphantly on the wildest
storm of battle. She is without her examples of a people by whom
the dear-bought treasure has been wisely employed and safely
handed down. The eyes of the world are turned for that ex-
ample to us. . . .
Let us, then, as we assemble on the birthday of the nation, as
we gather upon the green turf, once wet with precious blood — let
us devote ourselves to the sacred cause of constitutional liberty !
Let us abjure the interests and passions which divide the great
family of American freemen! Let the rage of party spirit sleep
to-day! Let us resolve that our children shall have cause to
bless the memory of their fathers, as we have cause to bless the
memory of ours! — Edward Everett.
CHAPTER VIII
CONCENTRATION IN DELIVERY
Attention is the microscope of the mental eye. Its power may-
be high or low; its field of view narrow or broad. When high
power is used attention is confined within very circumscribed
limits, but its action is exceedingly intense and absorbing. It
sees but few things, but these few are observed "through and
through" . . . Mental energy and activity, whether of
perception or of thought, thus concentrated, act like the sun's
rays concentrated by the burning glass. The object is illumined,
heated, set on fire. Impressions are so deep that they can never
be eflfaced. Attention of this sort is the prime condition of the
most productive mental labor.
— Daniel Putnam, Psychology.
Try to nib the top of your head forward and backward
at the same time that you are patting your chest. Unless
your powers of coordination are well developed you will
find it confusing, if not impossible. The brain needs
special training before it can do two or more things
efficiently at the same instant. It may seem like split-
ting a hair between its north and northwest corner, but
some psychologists argue that no brain can think two
distinct thoughts, absolutely simultaneously — that what
seems to be simultaneous is really very rapid rotation
from the first thought to the second and back again, just
as in the above-cited experiment the attention must shift
from one hand to the other until one or the other move-
ment becomes partly or wholly automatic.
Whatever is the psychological truth of this contention
CONCENTRATION IN DELIVERY 8l
it is undeniable that the mind measurably loses grip on
one idea the moment the attention is projected decidedly
ahead to a second or a third idea.
A fault in public speakers that is as pernicious as it is \
common is that they try to think of the succeeding^
sentence while still uttering the former, and in this way/
their concentration trails off; in consequence, they start
their sentences strongly and end them weakly. In a well-
prepared written speech the emphatic word Usually comes
at one end of the sentence. But an emphatic word needs
emphatic expression, and this is precisely what it does not
get when concentration flags by leaping too soon to that
which is next to be uttered. Concentrate all your mental ~'
energies on the present sentence. Remember that the
mind of your audience follows yours very closely, and if
you withdraw your attention from what you are saying
to what you are going to say, your audience will also with-
draw theirs. They may not do so consciously and de-
liberately, but they will surely cease to give importance
to the things that you yourself slight. It is fatal to either
the actor or the speaker to cross his bridges too soon.
Of course, all this is not to say that in the natural pauses
of your speech you are not to take swift forward surveys —
they are as important as the forward look in driving a
motor car; the caution is of quite another sort: while u
speaking one sentence do not think of the sentence to follow, J^
Let it come from its proper source — ^within yourself.
You cannot deliver a broadside without concentrated
force — that is what produces the explosion. In preparation
you store and concentrate thought and feeling; in the
82 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
pauses during delivery you swiftly look ahead and gather
yourself for effective attack; during the moments of
actual speech, SMAK— DON'T ANTICIPA TE, Divide
your attention and you divide your power.
This matter of the effect of the inner man upon the
outer needs a further word here, particularly as touching
concentration.
"What do you read, my lord?" Hamlet replied,
"Words. Words. Words." That is a world-old trouble.
The mechanical calling of words is not expression, by a
long stretch. Did you ever notice how hollow a memorized
speech usually sounds? You have listened to the ranting,
mechanical cadence of inefficient actors, lawyers and
preachers. Their trouble is a mental one — they are not
concentratedly thinking thoughts that cause words to
issue with sincerity and conviction, but are merely enun-
ciating word-sounds mechanically. Painful experience
alike to audience and to speaker! A parrot is equally elo-
quent. Again let Shakespeare instruct us, this time in
the insincere prayer of the King, Hamlet's uncle. He
laments thus pointedly:
My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.
The truth is, that as a speaker your words must be born
again every time they are spoken, then they will not suffer
in their utterance, even though perforce committed to
memory and repeated, like Dr. Russell Conwell's lecture,
"Acres of Diamonds," five thousand times. Such speeches
lose nothing by repetition for the perfectly patent reason
CONCENTRATION IN DELIVERY 83
that they arise from concentrated thought and feeling and
not a mere necessity for sa3dng something — which usually
means anything, and that, in txirn, is tantamount to
nothing. If the thought beneath your words is warm,
fresh, spontaneous, a part of your selfj your utterance will
have breath and life. Words are only a result. Do not
try to get the result without stimulating the cause.
Do you ask h(rw to concentrate? Think of the word
itself, and of its philological brother, concentric. Think of
how a lens gathers and concenters the rays of light within
a given circle. It centers them by a process of withdrawal.
It may seem like a harsh sa)dng, but the man who cannot
concentrate is either weak of will, a nervous wreck, or has
never learned what will-power is good for.
You must concentrate by resolutely withdrawing your
attention from everything else. If you concentrate your
thought on a pain which may be afficting you, that pain
will grow more intense. " Coimt your blessings " and they
will multiply. Center your thought on your strokes and
your tennis play will gradually improve. To concentrate
is simply to attend to one thing, and attend to nothing
else. If you find that you cannot do that, there is some-
thing wrong — attend to that first. Remove the cause and
the symptom will disappear. Read the chapter on "Will
Power." Cultivate your will by willing and then doing,
at all costs. Concentrate — and you will win.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
I. Select from any source several sentences suitable for
speaking aloud; deliver them first in the manner con-
84 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
demned in this chapter, and second with due regard for
emphasis toward the close of each sentence.
2. Put into about one hundred words your impression
of the effect produced.
3. Tell of any pecuUar methods you may have observed
or heard of by which speakers have sought to aid their
powers of concentration, such as looking fixedly at a blank
spot in the ceiling, or twisting a watch charm.
4. What effect do such habits have on the audience?
5. What relation does pause bear to concentration?
6. Tell why concentration naturally helps a speaker
to change pitch, tempo, and emphasis.
7. Read the following selection through to get its
meaning and spirit clearly in your mind. Then read it
aloud, concentrating solely on the thought that you are
expressing — do not trouble about the sentence or thought
that is coming. Half the troubles of mankind arise from
anticipating trials that never occur. Avoid this in speak-
ing. Make the end of your sentences just as strong as the
begmning. CONCENTRATE.
WAR!
The last of the savage instincts is war. The cave man's club
made law and procured food. Might decreed right. Warriors
were saviours.
In Nazareth a carpenter laid down the saw and preached the
brotherhood of man. Twelve centuries afterwards his followers
marched to the Holy Land to destroy all who differed with them
in the worship of the God of Love. Triumphantly they wrote
" In Solomon's Porch and in his temple our men rode in the blood
of the Saracens up to the knees of their horses."
History is an appalling tale of war. In the seventeenth century
CONCENTRATION IN DELIVERY 85
Germany, France, Sweden, and Spain warred for thirty years.
At Magdeburg 30,000 out of 36,000 were killed regardless of sex
or age. In Germany schools were closed for a third of a century,
homes burned, women outraged, towns demolished, and the un-
tilled land became a wilderness.
Two-thirds of Germany's property was destroyed and
18,000,000 of her citizens were killed, because men quarrelled about
the way to glorify ' * The Prince of Peace. ' ' Marching through rain
and snow, sleeping on the ground, eating stale food or starving,
contracting diseases and facing guns that fire six himdred times
a minute, for fifty cents a day — this is the soldier's life.
At the window sits the widowed mother crying. Little children
with tearful faces pressed against the pane watch and wait.
Their means of livelihood, their home, their happiness is gone.
Fatherless children, broken-hearted women, sick, disabled and
dead men — this is the wage of war.
We spend more money preparing men to kill each other than
we do in teaching them to live. We spend more money building
one battleship than in the annual maintenance of all our state
imiversities. The financial loss resulting from destrojring one
another's homes in the civil war would have built 15,000,000
houses, each costing $2,000. We pray for love but prepare for
hate. We preach peace but equip for war.
Were half the power that fills the world with terror,
Were half the wealth bestowed on camp and court
Given to redeem this world from error.
There would be no need of arsenal and fort.
War only defers a question. No issue will ever really be settled
until it is settled rightly. Like rival "gun gangs" in a back
alley, the nations of the world, through the bloody ages, have
fought over their differences. Denver cannot fight Chicago and
Iowa cannot fight Ohio. Why should Germany be permitted to
fight France, or Bulgaria fight Turkey?
When mankind rises above creeds, colors and countries, when
we are citizens, not of a nation, but of the world, the armies and
navies of the earth will constitute an international police force
to perserve the peace and the dove will take the eagle's place.
86 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Our differences will be settled by an international court with the
power to enforce its mandates. In times of peace prepare for
peace. The wages of war are the wages of sin, and the "wages
of sin is death."
— Editorial by D. C, Leslie's Weekly; used by permission.
CHAPTER IX
FORCE
However, 'tis expedient to be wary:
Indifference, certes, don't produce distress;
And rash enthusiasm in good society-
Were nothing but a moral inebriety.
— Byron, Don Juan.
You have attended plays that seemed fair, yet they did
not move you, grip you. In theatrical pariance, they
failed to "get over," which means that their message did
not get over the foot-Ughts to the audience. There was
no pimch, no jab to them — they had no force.
Of course, all this spells disaster, in big letters, not only
in a stage production but in any platform effort. Every
such presentation exists solely for the audience, and if it
fails to hit them — and the expression is a good one — ^it has
no excuse for living; nor will it live long.
What is Force? ^^^_
Some of our most obvious words open up secret meanings
under scrutiny, and this is one of them.
To begin with, we must recognize the distinction
between inner and outer force. The one is cause, the other
effect. The one is spiritual, the other physical. In this
important particular, animate force differs from inanimate
force — the power of man, coming from within and express-
ing itself outwardly, is of another sort from the force of
SS THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Shimose powder, which awaits some influence from with-
out to explode it. However susceptive to outside stimuli,
the true source of power in man lies within himself. This
may seem like "mere psychology," but it has an intensely
practical bearing on public speaking, as will appear.
Not only must we discern the difference between human
force and mere physical force, but we must not confuse its
real essence with some of the things that may — and may
not — accompany it. For example, loudness is not force,
though force at times may be attended by noise. Mere
roaring never made a good speech, yet there are mo-
ments— moments, mind you, not minutes — when big
voice power may be used with tremendous effect.
Nor is violent motion force — yet force may result in
violent motion. Hamlet counseled the players:
Nor do not saw the air too much with your hand, thus; but use
all gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say)
whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a tem-
perance, that may give it smoothness. Oh, it offends me to
the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion
to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings*;
who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable
dumb show, and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for
o'er-doing Termagant; it out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.
Be not too tame, neither, but let your discretion be your tutor:
suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this
special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature;
for anjrthing so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose
end, both at the first, and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere,
the mirror up to Nature, to show Virtue her own feature. Scorn
her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form
and pressure. Now, this overdone, or come tardy off, though
1 Those who sat in the pit, or parquet.
FORCE 89
it make the unskillful laugh, cannot but make the judicious
grieve; the censure of the which one must, in your allowance,
o'erweigh a whole theater of others. Oh, there be players that
I have seen play — and heard others praise, and that highly — not
to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Chris-
tians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, or man, have so strutted
and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature's journeymen
had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity
so abominably. *
Force is both a cause and an effect. Inner force, which
must precede outer force, is a combination of four ele-
ments, acting progressively. First of all, jorce arises from
conviction. You must be convinced of the truth, or the
importance, or the meaning, of what you are about to
say before you can give it forceful delivery. It must lay
strong hold upon your convictions before it can grip your
audience. Conviction convinces.
The Saturday Evening Post in an article on "England's
T. R." — Winston Spencer Churchill — attributed much
of Churchill's and Roosevelt's pubUc platform success to
their forceful delivery. No matter what is in hand, these
men make themselves believe for the time being that that
one thing is the most important on earth. Hence they
speak to their audiences in a Do-this-or-you-PjEi^5^
manner.
That kind of speaking wins, and it is that virile, strenu-
ous, aggressive attitude which both distinguishes and
maintains the platform careers of our greatest leaders.
But let us look a little closer at the origins of inner
force. How does conviction affect the man who feels it?
» Hamlet, Act III, Scene 2.
i
\
)
pO THE ART or PUBLIC SPEAKING
We have answered the inquiry in the very question itself
-he feels it: Conviction prodiices emotional tension. Study
the pictures of Theodore Roosevelt and of Billy Sunday in
action — action is the word. Note, the tension of their jaw
muscles, the taut lines of sinews in their entire bodies
when reaching a climax of force. Moral and physical force
are alike in being both preceded and accompanied by
ia-tens-ity — tension — tightness of the cords of power.
It is this tautness of the bow-string, this knotting of the
muscles, this contraction before the spring, that makes
an audience feel — almost see — the reserve power in a
speaker. In some really wonderful way it is more what a
speaker does not say and do that reveals the dynamo
within. Anything may come from such stored-up force
once it is let loose; and that keeps an audience alert, hang-
ing on the lips of a speaker for his next word. After all,
it is all a question of manhood, for a stuffed doll has neither
convictions nor emotional tension. If you are upholstered
with sawdust, keep off the platform, for your own speech
will puncture you.
Growing out of this conviction-tension comes resolve to
make the audience share that conviction-tension. Purpose is
the backbone of force; without it speech is flabby — it
may glitter, but it is the iridescence of the spineless jelly-
fish. You must hold fast to your resolve if you would
hold fast to your audience.
Finally, all this conviction-tension-purpose is lifeless
and useless imless it results in propulsion. You remember
how Yoimg in his wonderful "Night Thoughts" delineates
the man who
FORCE 91
Pushes his prudent purpose to resolve,
Resolves, and re-resolves, and dies the same.
Let not your force "die a-borning," — bring it to full life
in its conviction, emotional tension, resolve, and propul-
sive power.
Can Force he Acquired?
Yes, if the acquirer has any such capacities as we have
just outlined. How to acquire this vital factor is sug-
gested in its very analysis: Live with your subject until ' — ^
you are convinced of its importance.
If your message does not of itself arouse you to tension,
PULL yourself together. When a man faces the necessity
of leaping across a crevasse he does not wait for inspiration,
he wills his muscles into tensity for the spring — it is not
without purpose that our English language uses the same
word to depict a mighty though delicate steel contrivance
and a quick leap through the air. Then resolve — and let
it all end in actual punch.
This truth is worth reiteration: The man within is the
final factor. He must supply the fuel. The audience, or
even the man himself, may add the match — it matters
little which, only so that there be fire. However skillfully
your engine is constructed, however well it works, you will
have no force if the fire has gone out under the boiler.
It matters little how well you have mastered poise, pause,
modulation, and tempo, if your speech lacks fire it is dead.
Neither a dead engine nor a dead speech will move any-
body.
Four factors of force are measurably within your control,
92
THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
and in that far may be acquired: ideas, feeling about the
subject, wording, and delivery. Each of these is more or
less fully discussed in this volume, except wording, which
really requires a fuller rhetorical study than can here be
ventured. It is, however, of the utmost importance that
you should be aware of precisely how wording bears upon
force in a sentence. Study "The Working Principles of
Rhetoric," by John Franklin Genung, or the rhetorical
treatises of Adams Sherman Hill, of Charles Sears Baldwin,
or any others whose names may easily be learned from
any teacher.
Here are a few suggestions on the use of words to
attain force:
Choice
of Words
PLAIN words are more forceful than words less
commonly Mstd— juggle has more vigor than
prestidigitate.
SHORT words are stronger than long words —
end has more directness than terminate,
SAXON words are usually more forceful than
Latinistic words — for force, use wars against
rather than militate against.
SPECIFIC words are stronger than general
words — pressman is more definite than printer.
CONNOTATIVE words, those that suggest
more than they say, have more power than
ordinary words — "She let herself be married"
expresses more than "She married J^
EPITHETS, figuratively descriptive words, are
. more effective than direct names — "Go tell
FORCE
93
Choice
of Words
that oldfox^^^ has more "punch "than " Go tell
that sly fellow y
ONOMATOPOETIC words, words that convey
the sense by the sound, are more powerful
than other words — crash is more effective than
^ cataclysm.
Arrange-
ment
of
Words
Cut out modifiers.
Cut out connectives.
Begin with words that demand attention.
"End with words that deserve distinction,"
says Prof. Barrett Wendell.
Set strong ideas over against weaker ones, so
as to gain strength by the contrast.
Avoid elaborate sentence structure — short
sentences are stronger than long ones.
Cut out every useless word, so as to give
prominence to the really important ones.
Let each sentence be a condensed battering
ram, swinging to its final blow on the attention.
A famiUar, homely idiom, if not worn by much
use, is more effective than a highly formal,
scholarly expression.
Consider well the relative value of different
positions in the sentence so that you may give
the prominent place to ideas you wish to empha-
size.
"But," says someone, "is it not more honest to depend
on the inherent interest in a subject, its native truth, clear-
94 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
ness and sincerity of presentation, and beauty of utter-
ance, to win your audience? Why not charm men instead
of capturing them by assault?"
Why Use Force?
There is much truth in such an appeal, but not all the
truth. Clearness, persuasion, beauty, simple statement
of truth, are all essential — indeed, they are all definite
parts of a forceful presentment of a subject, without
being the only parts. Strong meat may not be as attrac-
tive as ices, but all depends on the appetite and the stage
of the meal.
You can not deliver an aggressive message with caress-
ing little strokes. No! Jab it in with hard, swift solar
plexus punches. You cannot strike fire from flint or from
an audience with love taps. Say to a crowded theatre in
a lackadaisical manner: "It seems to me that the house
is on fire," and your announcement may be greeted
with a laugh. If you flash out the words: "The house's
on fire!" they will crush one another in getting to the
exits.
The spirit and the language of force are definite with con-
viction. No immortal speech in literature contains such
expressions as "it seems to me," "I should judge," "in
my opinion," "I suppose," "perhaps it is true." The
speeches that will live have been delivered by men ablaze
with the courage of their convictions, who uttered their
words as eternal truth. Of Jesus it was said that "the
common people heard Him gladly." Why? "He taught
FORCE 95
them as one having A UTHORITY." An audience will
never be moved by what "seems" to you to be truth or
what in your " humble opinion " may be so. If you honest-
ly can, assert convictions as your conclusions. Be sure you
are right before you speak your speech, then utter your
thoughts as though they were a Gibraltar of unimpeacha-
ble truth. Deliver them with the iron hand and confi-
dence of a Cromwell. Assert them with the fire of authority. •— V-
Pronoimce them as an tdtimatum. If you cannot speak -^
with conviction, be silent.
What force did that young minister have who, fearing
to be too dogmatic, thus exhorted his hearers: "My
friends — as I assume that you are — it appears to be my
duty to tell you that if you do not repent, so to speak,
forsake your sins, as it were, and turn to righteousness,
if I may so express it, you will be lost, in a measure"?
Effective speech must reflect the era. This is not a
rose water age, and a tepid, half-hearted speech will not
win. This is the century of trip hammers, of overland
expresses that dash under cities and through mountain
tunnels, and you must instill this spirit into your speech
if you would move a popular audience. From a front
seat Hsten to a first-class company present a modern
Broadway drama — not a comedy, but a gripping, thrilling
drama. Do not become absorbed in the story; reserve
all your attention for the technique and the force of the
acting. There is a kick and a crash as well as an infinitely
subtle intensity in the big, cHmax-speeches that suggest
this lesson: the same well-calculated, restrained, deli-
cately shaded force would simply rivet your ideas in the
96 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
minds of your audience. An air-gun will rattle bird-shot
against a window pane — it takes a rifle to wing a bullet
through plate glass and the oaken walls beyond.
When to Use Force
An audience is unUke the kingdom of heaven — the vio-
lent do not always take it by force. There are times when
beauty and serenity should be the only bells in your chime.
Force is only one of the great extremes of contrast — -
use neither it nor quiet utterance to the exclusion of other
tones: be various, and in variety find even greater force
than you could attain by attempting its constant use.
K you are reading an essay on the beauties of the dawn,
talking about the dainty bloom of a honey-suckle, or;
explaining the mechanism of a gas engine, a vigorous
I style of deUvery is entirely out of place. But when you
are appeaUng to wills and consciences for immediate
action, forceful deUvery wins. In such cases, consider
the minds of your audience as so many safes that have
been locked and the keys lost. Do not try to figure out
the combinations. Pour a httle nitro gylcerine into the
cracks and light the fuse. As these lines are being written
a contractor down the street is clearing away the rocks
with dynamite to lay the foundations for a great building.
When you want to get action, do not fear to use dynamite.
The final argument for the effectiveness of force in
public speech is the fact that everything must be enlarged
for the purposes of the platform — that is why so few
speeches read well in the reports on the morning after:
FORCE 97
statements appear crude and exaggerated because they
are unaccompanied by the forceful delivery of a glowing
speaker before an audience heated to attentive enthusi-
asm. So in preparing your speech you must not err on
the side of mild statement — your audience will inevitably
tone down your words in the cold grey of afterthought.
When Phidias was criticised for the rough, bold outlines
of a figure he had submitted in competition, he smiled
and asked that his statue and the one wrought by his
rival should be set upon the column for which the sculp-
ture was destined. When this was done all the exaggera-
tions and crudities, toned by distances, melted into ex-
quisite grace of line and form. Each speech must be a
special study in suitability and proportion.
Omit the thunder of delivery, if you will, but like
Wendell Phillips put "silent lightning" into your speech.
Make your thoughts breathe and your words burn.
Birrell said: "Emerson writes like an electrical cat
emitting sparks and shocks in every sentence." Go thou
and speak likewise. Get the "big stick" into your de-
livery— be forceful.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Illustrate, by repeating a sentence from memory,
what is meant by employing force in speaking.
2. Which in your opinion is the most important of the
technical principles of speaking that you have studied so
far? Why?
3. What is the effect of too much force in a speech?
Too little?
<)8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
4. Note some uninteresting conversation or ineffective
speech, and tell why it failed.
5. Suggest how it might be improved.
6. Why do speeches have to be spoken with more
force than do conversations?
7. Read aloud the selection on page 84, using the
technical principles outlined in chapters ELI to VIII, but
neglect to put any force behind the interpretation. What
is the result?
8. Reread several times, doing your best to achieve
force.
9. Which parts of the selection on page 84 require
the most force?
10. Write a five-minute speech not only discussing
the errors of those who exaggerate and those who minimize
the use of force, but by imitation show their weaknesses.
Do not burlesque, but closely imitate.
11. Give a list of ten themes for pubhc addresses,
saying which seem most likely to require the frequent
use of force in delivery.
12. In your own opinion, do speakers usually err from
the use of too much or too little force?
13. Define (a) bombast; (b) bathos; (c) sentimen-
tality; (d) squeamish.
14. Say how the foregoing words describe weaknesses
in public speech.
15. Recast in twentieth-century English "Hamlet's
Directions to the Players," page SS.
16. Memorize the following extracts from Wen-
dell PhilUps' speeches, and deliver them with the
FORCE 99
force of Wendell Phillips' "silent lightning" delivery.
We are for a revolution! We say in behalf of these hunted
beings, whom God created, and who law-abiding Webster and
Winthrop have sworn shall not find shelter in Massachusetts, —
we say that they may make their little motions, and pass their
little laws in Washington, but that Faneuil Hall repeals them in
the name of humanity and the old Bay State!
My advice to workingmen is this:
If you want power in this country; if you want to make your-
selves felt; if you do not want your children to wait long years
before they have the bread on the table they ought to have, the
leisure in their lives they ought to have, the opportunities in
life they ought to have; if you don't want to wait yourselves, —
write on your banner, so that every political trimmer can read it,
so that every politician, no matter how short-sighted he may be,
can read it, ''WE NEVER FORGET! If you launch the
arrow of sarcasm at labor, WE NEVER FORGET! If there is a
division in Congress, and you throw your vote in the wrong scale,
WE NEVER FORGET! You may go down on your knees, and
say, 'I am sorry I did the act' — ^but we will say 'IT WILL
A VAIL YOU IN HEA VEN TO BE SORRY, BUT ON THIS
SIDE OF THE GRA VE, NEVER!' ' ' So that a man in taking
up the labor question will know he is dealing with a hair-trigger
pistol, and will say, "I am to be true to justice and to man;
otherwise I am a dead duck."
In Russia there is no press, no debate, no explanation of what
government does, no remonstrance allowed, no agitation of public
issues. Dead silence, like that which reigns at the summit of
Mont Blanc, freezes the whole empire, long ago described as "a
despotism tempered by assassination." Meanwhile, such des-
potism has unsettled the brains of the ruling family, as unbridled
power doubtless made some of the twelve Caesars insane; a mad-
man, sporting with the lives and comfort of a himdred millions
of men. The young girl whispers in her mother's ear, under a
ceiled roof, her pity for a brother knouted and dragged half
lOO THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
dead into exile for his opinions. The next week she is stripped
naked and flogged to death in the pubUc square. No inquiry,
no explanation, no trial, no protest, one dead uniform silence,
the law of the tyrant. Where is there ground for any hope of
peaceful change? No, no ! in such a land dynamite and the dagger
are the necessary and proper substitutes for Faneuil Hall. Any-
thing that will make the madman quake in his bedchamber, and
rouse his victims into reckless and desperate resistance. This
is the only view an American, the child of 1620 and 1776, can
take of Nihilism. Any other unsettles and perplexes the ethics
of our civilization.
Bom within sight of Bunker Hill — son of Harvard, whose first
pledge was "Truth," citizen of a republic based on the claim that
no government is rightful unless resting on the consent of the
people, and which assumes to lead in asserting the rights of
htmaanity — I at least can say nothing else and nothing less — no,
not if every tile on Cambridge roofs were a devil hooting my
words!
For practise on forceful selections, use "The Irrepressi-
ble Conflict," page 67; "Abraham Lincoln," page 76;
"Pass Prosperity Around," page 470; "A Plea for Cuba,"
page so.
CHAPTER X
FEELING AND ENTHUSIASM
Enthusiasm is that secret and harmonious spirit that hovers
over the production of genius.
— Isaac Disraeli, Literary Character.
If you are addressing a body of scientists on such a
subject as the veins in a butterfly's wings, or on road struct-
ure, naturally your theme will not arouse much feeling
in either you or your audience. These are purely mental
subjects. But if you want men to vote for a measure that
will abolish child labor, or if you would inspire them to
take up arms for freedom, you must strike straight at
their feelings. i^We lie on soft beds, sit near the radiator
on a cold day, eat cherry pie, and devote our attention
to one of the opposite sex, not because we have reasoned
out that it is the right thing to do, but because it feels
right, j No one but a dyspeptic chooses his diet from a
chart. Our feelings dictate what we shall eat and gen-
erally how we shall act. Man is a feeling animal, hence
the public speaker's ability to arouse men to action de-
pends almost wholly on his ability to touch their emotions.
Negro mothers on the auction-block seeing their chil-
dren sold away from them into slavery have flamed out
some of America's most stirring speeches. True, the
mother did not have any knowledge of the technique of
speaking, but she had something greater than all technique,
more effective than reason: feeling. The gr.eat speeches
I02 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
of the world have not been delivered on tariff reductions
or post-office appropriations. The speeches that will live
have been charged with emotional force. Prosperity and
peace are poor developers of eloquence. When great
wrongs are to be righted, when the pubUc heart is flaming
with passion, that is the occasion for memorable speaking.
Patrick Henry made an immortal address, for in an
epochal crisis he pleaded for liberty. He had roused him-
self to the point where he could honestly and passionately
exclaim, "Give me liberty or give me death.'* His fame
would have been different had he lived to-day and argued
for the recall of judges.
The Power of Enthusiasm
Political parties hire bands, and pay for applause — they
argue that, for vote-getting, to stir up enthusiasm is more
effective than reasoning. How far they are right depends
on the hearers, but there can be no doubt about the con-
tagious nature of enthusiasm. A watch manufacturer in
New York tried out two series of watch advertisements;
one argued the superior construction, workmanship,
durability, and guarantee offered with the watch; the
other was headed, "A Watch to be Proud of," and dwelt
upon the pleasure and pride of ownership. The latter
series sold twice as many as the former. A salesman for
a locomotive works informed the writer that in selling
railroad engines emotional appeal was stronger than an
argument based on mechanical excellence.
Illustrations without nimiber might be cited to show
FEELING AND ENTHUSIASM IO3
that in all our actions we are emotional beings. The
speaker who would speak efficiently must develop the
power to arouse feeling.
Webster, great debater that he was, knew that the real
secret of a speaker's power was an emotional one. He
eloquently says of eloquence:
"Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declama-
tion, all may aspire after it; they cannot reach it. It comes, if
it come at all, like the outbreak of a foimtain from the earth, or
the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original,
native force.
"The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and
studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their
own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their
country hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost
their power, rhetoric is in vain, and all elaborate oratory con-
temptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked and subdued, as
in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent,
then self-devotion is eloquent. The clear conception outrunning
the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the
dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye,
informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward,
right onward to his subject — this, this is eloquence; or rather,
it is something greater and higher than all eloquence; it is actiont
noble, sublime, godlike action."
When traveling through the Northwest some time ago,
one of the present writers strolled up a village street after
dinner and noticed a crowd listening to a "faker" speaking
on a corner from a goods-box. Remembering Emerson's
advice about learning something from every man we meet,
the observer stopped to listen to this speaker's appeal.
He was selling a hair tonic, which he claimed to have dis-
covered in Arizona. He removed his hat to show what this
I04 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
remedy had done for him, washed his face in it to demon-
strate that it was as harmless as water, and enlarged on its
merits in such an enthusiastic manner that the half-
dollars poured in on him in a silver flood. When he had
supplied the audience with hair tonic, he asked why a
greater proportion of men than women were bald. No
one knew. He explained that it was because women wore
thinner-soled shoes, and so made a good electrical con-
nection with mother earth, while men wore thick, dry-
soled shoes that did not transmit the earth's electricity to
the body. Men's hair, not having a proper amount of
electrical food, died and fell out. Of course he had a
remedy — a little copper plate that should be nailed on the
bottom of the shoe. He pictured in enthusiastic and vivid
terms the desirabiUty of escaping baldness — and paid
tributes to his copper plates. Strange as it may seem
when the story is told in cold print, the speaker's en-
thusiasm had swept his audience with him, and they
crushed around his stand with outstretched "quarters"
in their anxiety to be the possessors of these magical
plates!
Emerson's suggestion had been well taken — the observer
had seen again the wonderful, persuasive power of en-
thusiasm!
Enthusiasm sent millions crusading into the Holy Land
to redeem it from the Saracens. Enthusiasm plunged
Europe into a thirty years' war over reHgion. Enthusiasm
sent three small ships pl)dng the unknown sea to the
shores of a new world. When Napoleon's army were
worn out and discouraged in their ascent of the Alps,
FEELING AND ENTHUSIASM I05
the Little Corporal stopped them and ordered the bands
to play the Marseillaise. Under its soul-stirring strains
there were no Alps.
Listen! Emerson said: "Nothing great was ever
achieved without enthusiasm." Carlyle declared that
"Every great movement in the annals of history has been
the triumph of enthusiasm." It is as contagious as
measles. Eloquence is half inspiration. Sweep your
audience with you in a pulsation of enthusiasm. Let your-
self go. "A man," said Oliver Cromwell, "never rises so
high as when he knows not whither he is going."
How are We to Acquire and Develop Enthusiasm?
It is not to be slipped on like a smoking jacket. A book
cannot furnish you with it. It is a growth — an effect.
But an effect of what? Let us see.
Emerson wrote: "A painter told me that nobody could
draw a tree without in some sort becoming a tree; or draw
a child by studying the outhnes of his form merely, — but,
by watching for a time his motion and plays, the painter
enters his nature, and then can draw him at will in every
attitude. So Roos 'entered into the inmost nature of his
sheep.' I knew a draughtsman employed in a public sur-
vey, who found that he could not sketch the rocks until
their geological structure was first explained to him."
When Sarah Bernhardt plays a difficult r61e she fre-
quently will speak to no one from four o'clock in the after-
noon until after the performance. From the hour of four
she lives her character. Booth, it is reported, would not
Io6 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
permit anyone to speak to him between the acts of his
Shakesperean r61es, for he was Macbeth then — not Booth.
Dante, exiled from his beloved Florence, condemned to
death, lived in caves, half starved; then Dante wrote out
his heart in "The Divine Comedy." Bunyan entered
into the spirit of his "Pilgrim's Progress" so thoroughly that
he fell down on the floor of Bedford jail and wept for joy.
Turner, who lived in a garret, arose before daybreak and
walked over the hills nine miles to see the sun rise on the
ocean, that he might catch the spirit of its wonderful
beauty. Wendell Phillips' sentences were full of "silent
lightning" because he bore in his heart the sorrow of five
milhon slaves.
There is only one way to get feeling into your speaking —
and whatever else you forget, forget not this: You must
"^^^^^-■—-dctually ENTER INTO the character you impersonate,
the cause you advocate, the case you argue — enter into it
so deeply that it clothes you, enthralls you, possesses you
wholly. Then you are, in the true meaning of the word,
-.in sympathy with your subject, for its feeUng is your
feeling, you "feel with" it, and therefore your enthusiasm
is both genuine and contagious. The Carpenter who
spoke as "never man spake" uttered words born out of a
passion of love for hmnanity — ^he had entered into hu-
manity, and thus became Man.
But we must not look upon the foregoing words as a
facile prescription for decocting a feeling which may then
be ladled out to a complacent audience in quantities to
suit the need of the moment. Genuine feeling in a speech
is bone and blood of the speech itself and not something
FEELING AND ENTHUSIASM I07
that may be added to it or substracted at will. In the
ideal address theme, speaker and audience become one,
fused by the emotion and thought of the hour.
The Need of Sympathy for Humanity ^^/^ \j
It is impossible to lay too much stress on the necessity
for the speaker's having a broad and deep tenderness for
human nature. One of Victor Hugo's biographers at-
tributes his power as an orator and writer to his wide
sympathies and profound religious feelings. Recently we
heard the editor of Collier's Weekly speak on short-
story writing, and he so often emphasized the necessity
for this broad love for himianity, this truly religious feeling,
that he apologized twice for delivering a sermon. Few
if any of the immortal speeches were ever delivered for a
selfish or a narrow cause — they were born out of a pas-
sionate desire to help humanity; instances, Paul's address
to the Athenians on Mars Hill, Lincoln's Gettysburg
speech. The Sermon on the Mount, Henry's address be-
fore the Virginia Convention of Delegates.
The seal and sign of greatness is a desire to serve others.
Self-preservation is the first law of life, but self-abnegation
is the first law of greatness — and of art. Selfishness is the
fundamental cause of all sin, it is the thing that all great
religions, all worthy philosophies, have struck at. Out of
a heart of real sympathy and love come the speeches that
move himianity.
Former United States Senator Albert J. Beveridge in an
introduction to one of the volumes of "Modern Elo-
quence," says: "The profoundest feeling among the
I08 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
masses, the most influential element in their character, is
the religious element. It is as instinctive and elemental
as the law of self-preservation. It informs the whole in-
tellect and personality of the people. And he who would
greatly influence the people by uttering their unformed
thoughts must have this great and unanalyzable bond of
sympathy with them."
When the men of Ulster armed themselves to oppose the
passage of the Home Rule Act, one of the present writers
assigned to a hundred men "Home Rule" as the topic
for an address to be prepared by each. Among this group
were some brilhant speakers, several of them experienced
lawyers and political campaigners. Some of their ad-
dresses showed a remarkable knowledge and grasp of the
subject; others were clothed in the most attractive
phrases. But a clerk, without a great deal of education
and experience, arose and told how he spent his boyhood
days in Ulster, how his mother while holding him on her
lap had pictured to him Ulster's deeds of valor. He spoke
of a picture in his uncle's home that showed the men of
Ulster conquering a tyrant and marching on to victory.
His voice quivered, and with a hand pointing upward he
declared that if the men of Ulster went to war they would
not go alone — a great God would go with them.
The speech thrilled and electrified the audience. It
thrills yet as we recall it. The high-sounding phrases,
the historical knowledge, the philosophical treatment, of
the other speakers largely failed to arouse any deep in-
terest, while the genuine conviction and feeling of the
modest clerk, speaking on a subject that lay deep in his
FEELING AND ENTHUSIASM lOQ
heart, not only electrified his audience but won their
personal sympathy for the cause he advocated.
As Webster said, it is of no use to try to pretend to
sympathy or feelings. It cannot be done successfully.
"Nature is forever putting a premium on reality." What
is false is soon detected as such. The thoughts and feelings
that create and mould the speech in the study must be
born again when the speech is delivered from the platform.
Do not let your words say one thing, and your voice and
attitude another. There is no room here for half-hearted,
nonchalant methods of delivery. Sincerity is the very soul
of eloquence. Carlyle was right: "No Mirabeau, Na-
poleon, Burns, Cromwell, no man adequate to do anything,
but is first of all in right earnest about it; what I call a
sincere man. I should say sincerity, a great, deep, genuine
sincerity, is the first characteristic of all men in any way
heroic. Not the sincerity that calls itself sincere; ah no,
that is a very poor matter indeed; a shallow braggart,
conscious sincerity, oftenest self-conceit mainly. The
great man's sincerity is of the kind he cannot speak of — is
not conscious of."
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
It is one thing to convince the would-be speaker that
he ought to put feeling into his speeches; often it is quite
another thing for him to do it. The average speaker is
afraid to let himself go, and continually suppresses his
emotions. When you put enough feeling into your
speeches they will sound overdone to you, unless you are
an experienced speaker. They will sound too strong, if
no THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
you are not used to enlarging for platform or stage, for
the delineation of the emotions must be enlarged for pub-
lic delivery.
I. Study the following speech, going back in your
imagination to the time and circumstances that brought it
forth. Make it not a memorized historical document, but
feel the emotions that gave it birth. The speech is only
an effect; live over in your own heart the causes that pro-
duced it and try to deliver it at white heat. It is not
possible for you to put too much real feeling into it,
though of course it would be quite easy to rant and fill it
with false emotion. This speech, according to Thomas Jef-
ferson, started the ball of the Revolution rolling. Men
were then willing to go out and die for liberty.
PATRICK HENRY'S SPEECH
BEFORE THE VIRGINIA CONVENTION OF DELEGATES
Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions
of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth,
and listen to the song of that siren, till she transforms us to beasts.
Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous
struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the number of those
who, having eyes, see not, and having ears, hear not, the things
which so nearly concern our temporal salvation? For my part,
whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know
the whole truth; to know the worst, and to provide for it.
I have but one lamp by which my feet are guided; and that
is the lamp of experience. I know of no way of judging of the
future but by the past. And judging by the past, I wish to know
what there has been in the conduct of the British Ministry for
the last ten years to justify those hopes with which gentlemen
have been pleased to solace themselves and the House? Is it
that insidious smile with which our petition has been lately re-
FEELING AND ENTHUSIASM III
ceived? Trust it not, sir; it will prove a snare to your feet.
SuflFer not yourselves to be "betrayed with a kiss"! Ask your-
selves, how this gracious reception of our petition comports with
those warlike preparations which cover our waters and darken
our land. Are fleets and armies necessary to a work of love and
reconcilation? Have we shown ourselves so unwilling to be rec-
onciled, that force must be called in to win back our love? Let
us not deceive ourselves, sir. These are the implements of war
and subjugation, the last "arguments" to which kings resort.
I ask gentlemen, sir, what means this martial array, if its pur-
pose be not to force us to submission? Can gentlemen assign any
other possible motive for it? Has Great Britian any enemy in
this quarter of the world, to call for all this accumulation of navies
and armies? No, sir, she has none. They are meant for us; they
can be meant for no other. They are sent over to bind and to
rivet upon us those chains which the British Ministry have been
so long forging. And what have we to oppose to them? Shall
we try argiunent? Sir, we have been trying that for the last ten
years. Have we anything new to offer upon the subject? Noth-
ing. We have held the subject up in every light of which it is
capable; but it has been all in vain. Shall we resort to entreaty
and humble supplication? What terms shall we find which have
not been already exhausted? Let us not, I beseech you, sir, de-
ceive ourselves longer. Sir, we have done everything that could
be done, to avert the storm which is now coming on. We have
petitioned, we have remonstrated, we have supplicated, we have
prostrated ourselves before the throne, and have implored its
interposition to arrest the tryannical hands of the Ministry and
Parliament. Our petitions have been slighted ; our remonstrances
have produced additional violence and insult; our supplications
have been disregarded, and we have been spumed with contempt
from the foot of the throne. In vain, after these things,
may we indulge in the fond hope of peace and reconciliation.
There is no longer any room for hope. If we wish to be free, if
we mean to preserve inviolate those inestimable privileges for
which we have been so long contending; if we mean not basely
to abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long en-
gaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon
until the glorious object of our contest shall be obtained, we must
112 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
fight; I repeat it, sir, we must fight! An appeal to arms, and to
the God of Hosts, is all that is left us !
They tell us, sir, that we are weak — "unable to cope with so
formidable an adversary " ! But when shall we be stronger? Will
it be the next week, or the next year? Will it be when we are
totally disarmed, and when a British guard shaU be stationed in
every house? Shall we gather strength by irresolution and in-
action? Shall we acquire the means of effectual resistance, by
lying supinely on our backs, and hugging the delusive phantom
of hope, until our enemies have bound us hand and foot? Sir,
we are not weak, if we make a proper use of those means which
the God of Nature hath placed in our power. Three millions of
people, armed in the holy cause of Liberty, and in such a country
as that which we possess, are invincible by any force which our
enemy can send against us. Besides, sir, we shall not fight our
battles alone. There is a just Power who presides over the des-
tinies of nations, and who will raise up friends to fight our battles
for us. The battle, sir, is not to the strong alone; it is to the
vigilant, the active, the brave. Besides, sir, we have no election.
If we were base enough to desire it, it is now too late to retire
from the contest. There is no retreat, but in submission and
slavery. Our chains are forged. Their clanking may be heard
on the plains of Boston. The war is inevitable ; and let it come!
I repeat it, sir, let it come ! It is in vain, sir, to extenuate the mat-
ter. Gentlemen may cry "Peace, peace!" but there is no peace!
The war is actually begun ! The next gale that sweeps from the
north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms! Our
brethren are already in the field ! Why stand we here idle? What
is it that gentlemen wish? What would they have? Is Ufe so
dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains
and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty Powers! — I know not what
course others may take; but as for me, give me liberty or give
me death!
2. Live over in your imagination all the solemnity and
sorrow that Lincoln felt at the Gettysburg cemetery. The
feeling in this speech is very deep, but it is quieter and more
subdued than the preceding one. The purpose of Henry's
FEELING AND ENTHUSIASM II3
address was to get action; Lincoln's speech was meant only
to dedicate the last resting place of those who had acted.
Read it over and over (see page 50) until it burns in your
soul. Then commit it and repeat it for emotional ex-
pression.
3. Beecher's speech on Lincoln, page 76; Thurston's
speech on "A Plea for Cuba," page 50; and the fol-
lowing selection, are recommended for practise in develop-
ing f eeUng in delivery.
A living force that brings to itsdf all the resources of imagina-
tion, all the inspirations of feeling, all that is influential in body,
in voice, in eye, in gesture, in posture, in the whole animated man,
is in strict analogy with the divine thought and the divine ar-
rangement; and there is no misconstruction more utterly untrue
and fatal than this: that oratory is an artificial thing, which
deals with baubles and trifles, for the sake of making bubbles of
pleasure for transient effect on mercurial audiences. So far from
that, it is the consecration of the whole man to the noblest pur-
poses to which one can address himself — the education and in-
spiration of his fellow men by all that there is in learning, by all
that there is in thought, by all that there is in feeling, by all that
there is in all of them, sent home through the channels of taste
and of beauty. — Henry Ward Beecher.
4. What in your opinion are the relative values of
thought and feeling in a speech?
5. Could we dispense with either?
6. What kinds of selections or occasions require much
feeling and enthusiasm? Which require little?
7. Invent a list of ten subjects for speeches, saying
which would give most room for pure thought and which
for feeling.
8. Prepare and deliver a ten-minute speech denouncing
114 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the (imaginary) unfeeling plea of an attorney; he may be
either the counsel for the defense or the prosecuting
attorney, and the accused may be assumed to be either
guilty or innocent, at your option.
9. Is feeling more important than the technical prin-
ciples expounded in chapters III to VII? Why?
10. Analyze the secret of some effective speech or
speaker. To what is the success due?
11. Give an example from your own observation of the
effect of feeling and enthusiasm on listeners.
12. Memorize Cariyle's and Emerson's remarks on en-
thusiasm.
13. Deliver Patrick Henry's address, page no, and
Thurston's^'speech, page 50, without show of feeling or
enthusiasm. What is the result?
14. Repeat, -with all the feeling these selections de-
mand. What is the result?
15. What'steps do you intend to take to develop the
power of^enthusiasm and feeling in speaking?
16. Write and deliver a five-minute speech ridiculing
a speaker who uses bombast, pomposity and over-
enthusiasm. Imitate him.
CHAPTER XI
^
FLUENCY THROUGH PREPARATION
Animis opibusque parati — Ready in mind and resources.
— Motto of South Carolina.
In omnibus negotiis prius quam aggrediare, adhibenda est
praeparatio diligens — In all matters before beginning a diligent
preparation should be made.
— Cicero, De Officiis.
Take your dictionary and look up the words that con-
tain the Latin stem flu — the results will be suggestive.
At first blush it would seem that fluency consists in
a ready, easy use of words. Not so — the flowing quality
of speech is much more, for it is a composite effect, with
each of its prior conditions deserving of careful notice.
The Sources of Fluency .,,
Speaking broadly, fluency is almost entirely a matter
of preparation. Certainly, native gifts figure largely here,
as in every art, but even natural faciUty is dependent on
the very same laws of preparation that hold good for the
man of supposedly small native endowment. Let this
encourage you if, hke Moses, you are prone to complain
that you are not a ready speaker.
Have you ever stopped to analyze that expression,
"a ready speaker?" Readiness, in its prime sense, is
preparedness, and they are most ready who are best pre-
pared. Quick firing depends more on the alert finger than
Il6 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
on the hair trigger. Your fluency will be in direct ratio
to two important conditions: your knowledge of what you
are going to say, and your being accustomed to telling
what you know to an audience. This gives us the second
great element of fluency — to preparation must be added
the ease that arises from practise; of which more pres-
ently.
Knowledge is Essential
Mr. Bryan is a most fluent speaker when he speaks on
political problems, tendencies of the time, and questions
of morals. It is to be supposed, however, that he would not
be so fluent in speaking on the bird life of the Florida
Everglades. Mr. John Burroughs might be at his best
on this last subject, yet entirely lost in talking about inter-
national law. Do not expect to speak fluently on a subject
that you know little or nothing about. Ctesiphon boasted
that he could speak all day (a sin in itself) on any subject
that an audience would suggest. He was banished by the
Spartans.
But preparation goes beyond the getting of the facts
in the case you are to present: it includes also the ability
to think and arrange your thoughts, a full and precise
vocabulary, an easy manner of speech and breathing,
absence of self-consciousness, and the several other
characteristics of efficient delivery that have deserved
special attention in other parts of this book rather than in
this chapter.
Preparation may be either general or specific; usually it
should be both. A life-time of reading, of companionship
FLUENCY THROUGH PREPARATION II7
with stirring thoughts, of wrestling with the problems of
life — this constitutes a general preparation of inestimable
worth. Out of a well-stored mind, and — richer still — a
broad experience, and — best of all — a warmly sympathetic
heart, the speaker will have to draw much material that
no immediate study could provide. General preparation
consists of all that a man has put into himself, all that
heredity and environment have instilled into him, and —
that other rich source of preparedness for speech — the
friendship of wise companions. When Schiller returned
home after a visit with Goethe a friend remarked: "I am
amazed by the progress Schiller can make within a single
fortnight." It was the progressive influence of a new
friendship. Proper friendships form one of the best means
for the formation of ideas and ideals, for they enable one
to practise in giving expression to thought. The speaker
who would speak fluently before an audience should learn
to speak fluently and entertainingly with a friend. Clarify
your ideas by putting them in words; the talker gains
as much from his conversation as the listener. You some-
times begin to converse on a subject thinking you have
very little to say, but one idea gives birth to another, and
you are surprised to learn that the more you give the more
you have to give. This give-and-take of friendly conversa-
tion develops mentality, and fluency in expression. Long-
fellow said: "A single conversation across the table with a
wise man is better than ten years' study of books," and
Holmes whimsically yet none the less truthfully declared
that half the time he talked to find out what he thought.
But that method must not be applied on the platform!
Il8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
After all this enrichment of life by storage, must come
the special preparation for the particular speech. This
is of so definite a sort that it warrants separate chapter-
treatment later.
Practise
But preparation must also be of another sort than the
gathering, organizing, and shaping of materials — ^it must
include practise, which, like mental preparation, must be
both general and special.
Do not feel surprised or discouraged if practise on the
principles of delivery herein laid down seems to retard
your fluency. For a time, this will be inevitable. While
you are working for proper inflection, for instance, in-
flection will be demanding your first thoughts, and the
flow of your speech, for the time being, will be secondary.
This warning, however, is strictly for the closet, for your
practise at home. Do not carry any thoughts of inflection
with you to the platform. There you must think only of
your subject. There is an absolute telepathy between the
audience and the speaker. If your thought goes to your
gesture, their thought will too. If your interest goes to
the quality of your voice, they will be regarding that in-
stead of what your voice is uttering.
You have doubtless been adjured to ''forget everything
but your subject." This advice says either too much or
too little. The truth is that while on the platform you
must not forget a great many things that are not in your
subject, but you must not think of them. Your attention
must consciously go only to your message, but sub-
FLUENCY THROUGH PREPARATION II9
consciously you will be attending to the points of technique
which have become more or less habitual by practise.
A nice balance between these two kinds of attention is
important.
You can no more escape this law than you can live with-
out air: Your platform gestures, your voice, your in-
flection, will all be just as good as your habit of gesture,
voice, and inflection makes them — no better. Even the
thought of whether you are speaking fluently or not will
have the effect of marring your flow of speech.
Return to the opening chapter, on self-confidence, and
again lay its precepts to heart. Learn by rules to speak
without thinking of rules. It is not — or ought not to be —
necessary for you to stop to think how to say the alphabet
correctly, as a matter of fact it is slightly more difficult
for you to repeat Z, Y, X than it is to say X, Y, Z — habit
has established the order. Just so you must master the
laws of efficiency in speaking imtil it is a second nature
for you to speak correctly rather than otherwise. A be-
ginner at the piano has a great deal of trouble with the
mechanics of playing, but as time goes on his fingers be-
come trained and almost instinctively wander over the
keys correctly. As an inexperienced speaker you will find
a great deal of difficulty at first in putting principles
into practise, for you will be scared, like the young
swimmer, and make some crude strokes, but if you per-
severe you will "win out."
Thus, to sum up, the vocabulary you have enlarged
by study, 1 the ease in speaking you have developed by
^See chapter on "Increasing the Vocabulary."
120 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
practise, the economy of your well-studied emphasis,
all will subconsciously come to your aid on the platform.
Then the habits you have formed will be earning
you a splendid dividend. The fluency of your speech
will be at the speed of flow your practise has made
habitual.
But this means work. What good habit does not? No
philosopher's stone that will act as a substitute for laborious
practise has ever been found. If it were, it would be thrown
away, because it would kill our greatest joy — the dehght
of acquisition. If public-speaking means to you a fuller
life, you will know no greater happiness than a well-
spoken speech. The time you have spent in gathering
ideas and in private practise of speaking you will find
amply rewarded.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. What advantages has the fluent speaker over the
hesitating talker?
2. What influences, within and without the man him-
self, work against fluency?
3. Select from the daily paper some topic for an ad-
dress and make a three-minute address on it. Do your
words come freely and your sentences flow out rhythmic-
ally? Practise on the same topic until they do.
4. Select some subject with which you are familiar
and test your fluency by speaking extemporaneously.
5. Take one of the sentiments given below and, fol-
lowing the advice given on pages 118-119, construct a
short speech beginning with the last word in the sentence.
FLUENCY THROUGH PREPARATION 121
Machinery has created a new economic world.
The Socialist Party is a strenuous worker for peace.
He was a crushed and broken man when he left prison.
War must ultimately give way to world-wide arbitration.
The labor unions demand a more equal distribution of the
wealth that labor creates.
6. Put the sentiments of Mr. Bryan's "Prince of
Peace," on page 448, into your own words. Honestly
criticise your own effort.
7. Take any of the following quotations and make a
five-minute speech on it without pausing to prepare. The
first efforts may be very lame, but if you want speed on a
typewriter, a record for a hundred-yard dash, or facility
in speaking, you must practise, practise ^ PRACTISE.
There lives more faith in honest doubt,
Believe me, than in half the creeds.
— Tennyson, In Memoriam.
Howe'er it be, it seems to me,
'Tis only noble to be good.
Kind hearts are more than coronets.
And simple faith than Norman blood.
— Tennyson, Lady Clara Vere de Vere.
'Tis distance lends enchantment to the view
And robes the mountain in its azure hue.
— Campbell, Pleasures of Hope.
His best companions, innocence and health.
And his best riches, ignorance of wealth.
— Goldsmith, The Deserted Village.
Beware of desperate steps! The darkest day,
Live till tomorrow, will have passed away.
— CowPER, Needless Alarm.
122 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
My country is the world, and my religion is to do good.
— Paine, Rights of Man.
Trade it^ may help, society extend.
But lures the pirate, and corrupts the friend:
It raises armies in a nation's aid.
But bribes a senate, and the land's betray'd.
— Pope, Moral Essays.
O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal
away their brains! — Shakespeare, Othello.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishment the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.
— Henley, Invictus,
The world is so full of a number of things,
I am sure we should all be happy as kings.
— Stevenson, A Child's Garden of Verses.
If your morals are dreary, depend upon it they are wrong.
— Stevenson, Essays.
Every advantage has its tax. I learn to be content.
— Emerson, Essays,
8. Make a two-minute speech on any of the following
general subjects, but you will find that your ideas will
come more readily if you narrow your subject by taking
some specific phase of it. For instance, instead of trying
to speak on *'Law" in general, take the proposition,
"The Poor Man Cannot Afford to Prosecute;" or in-
stead of dwelUng on "Leisure," show how modern speed
is creating more leisure. In this way you may expand
this subject list indefinitely.
»Money,
FLUENCY THROUGH PREPARATION
123
GENERAL THEMES
Law.
Politics.
Woman's Suffrage.
Initiative and Referendum.
A Larger Navy.
War.
Peace.
Foreign Immigration.
The Liquor Traffic.
Labor Unions.
Strikes.
Socialism.
Single Tax.
Tariff.
Honesty.
Courage.
Hope.
Love.
Mercy.
Kindness.
Justice.
Progress.
Machinery.
Invention.
Wealth.
Poverty.
Agriculture.
Science.
Surgery.
Haste.
Leisure.
Happiness.
Health.
Business.
America.
The Far East.
Mobs.
Colleges.
Sports.
Matrimony.
Divorce.
Child Labor.
Education.
Books.
The Theater.
Literature.
Electricity.
Achievement.
Failure.
Public Speaking.
Ideals.
Conversation.
The Most Dramatic Moment of
My Life.
My Happiest Days.
Things Worth While.
What I Hope to Achieve.
My Greatest Desire.
What I Would Do with a Million
Dollars.
Is Mankind Progressing?
Our Greatest Need.
CHAPTER XII
THE VOICE
Oh, there is something in that voice that reaches
The innennost recesses of my spirit!
— Longfellow, Christus,
The dramatic critic of The London Times once declared
that acting is nine-tenths voice work. Leaving the
message aside, the same may justly be said of public
speaking. A rich, correctly-used voice is the greatest
physical factor of persuasiveness and power, often over-
topping the effects of reason.
But a good voice, well handled, is not only an effective
possession for the professional speaker, it is a mark of per-
sonal culture as well, and even a distinct commercial
asset. Gladstone, himself the possessor of a deep, musi-
cal voice, has said: "Ninety men in every hundred in the
crowded professions will probably never rise above medi-
ocrity because the training of the voice is entirely neglected
and considered of no importance." These are words worth
pondering.
There are three fundamental requisites for a good voice:
I. Ease
Signor Bonci of the Metropolitan Opera Company says
that the secret of good voice is relaxation; and this is true,
for relaxation is the basis of ease. The air waves that pro-
duce voice result in a different kind of tone when striking
THE VOICE 125
against relaxed muscles than when striking constricted
muscles. Try this for yourself. Contract the muscles of
your face and throat as you do in hate, and flame out "I
hate you!" Now relax as you do when thinking gentle,
tender thoughts, and say, "I love you." How different
the voice sounds.
In practising voice exercises, and in speaking, never
force your tones. Ease must be your watchword. The
voice is a deUcate instrument, and you must not handle it
with hammer and tongs. Don't make your voice go — let
it go. Don't work. Let the yoke of speech be easy and
its burden light.
Your throat should be free from strain during speech,
therefore it is necessary to avoid muscular contraction.
The throat must act as a sort of chimney or f imnel for the
voice, hence any unnatural constriction will not only harm
its tones but injure its health.
Nervousness and mental strain are common sources
of mouth and throat constriction, so make the battle for
poise and self-confidence for which we pleaded in the
opening chapter.
But how can I relax? you ask. By simply willing to
relax. Hold your arm out straight from your shoulder.
Now — withdraw all power and let it fall. Practise re-
laxation of the muscles of the throat by letting your neck
and head fall forward. Roll the upper part of your body
around, with the waist line acting as a pivot. Let your
head fall and roll around as you shift the torso to different
positions. Do not force your head around — simply relax
your neck and let gravity pull it around as your body moves.
126
THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Again, let your head fall forward on your breast; raise
your head, letting your jaw hang. Relax until your jaw
feels heavy, as though it were a weight hung to your face.
Remember, you must relax the jaw to obtain command of
it. It must be free and flexible for the moulding of tone,
and to let the tone pass out unobstructed.
The lips also must be made flexible, to aid in the mould-
ing of clear and beautiful tones. For flexibiUty of lips
repeat the syllables, mo — me. In saying mo, bring the
lips up to resemble the shape of the letter O. In repeating
we, draw them back as you do in a grin. Repeat this ex-
ercise rapidly, giving the lips as much exercise as possible.
Try the following exercise in the same manner:
Mo— E— O— E— OO— Ah.
After this exercise has been mastered, the following
will also be found excellent for flexibility of lips:
Memorize these sounds indicated (not the expressions)
so that you can repeat them rapidly.
A as in
May.
E as
in Met.
U as in Use.
A "
Ah.
I '
' Ice.
Oi " Oil.
A "
At.
I '
' It.
Ou " Our.
0 "
No.
0 '
' No.
00 " Ooze.
A "
All.
00 '
' Foot.
A " Ah.
E "
Eat.
00 '
' Ooze.
E " Eat.
All the activity of breathing must be centered, not in
the throat, but in the middle of the body — ^you must
breathe from the diaphragm. Note the way you breathe
THE VOICE 127
when lying flat on the back, undressed in bed. You will
observe that all the activity then centers around the dia-
phragm. This is the natural and correct method of
breathing. By constant watchfulness make this your,
habitual manner, for it will enable you to relax more per-
fectly the muscles of the throat.
The next fimdamental requisite for good voice is
2. Openness
If the muscles of the throat are constricted, the tone
passage partially closed, and the mouth kept half-shut,
how can you expect the tone to come out bright and clear,
or even to come out at all? Sound is a series of waves,
and if you make a prison of your mouth, holding the jaws
and lips rigidly, it will be very difficult for the tone to
squeeze through, and even when it does escape it will lack
force and carrying power. Open your mouth wide, relax
all the organs of speech, and let the tone flow out easily.
Start to yawn, but instead of yawning, speak while your
throat is open. Make this open-feeling habitual when
speaking — we say make because it is a matter of resolu-
tion and of practise, if your vocal organs are healthy.
Your tone passages may be partly closed by enlarged ton-
sils, adenoids, or enlarged turbinate bones of the nose.
If so, a skilled physician should be consulted.
The nose is an important tone passage and should be*
kept open and free for perfect tones. What we call " talk-
ing through the nose" is not talking through the nose, as
you can easily demonstrate by holding your nose as you
128 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
talk. If you are bothered with nasal tones caused by
growths or swellings in the nasal passages, a slight, pain-
less operation will remove the obstruction. This is quite
important, aside from voice, for the general health will be
much lowered if the lungs are continually starved for air.
The final fundamental requisite for good voice is
J. Forwardness
A voice that is pitched back in the throat is dark, som-
bre, and unattractive. The tone must be pitched forward,
but do not force it forward. You will recall that our first
principle was ease. Think the tone forward and out. Be-
lieve it is going forward, and allow it to flow easily. You
can tell whether you are placing your tone forward or not
by inhaling a deep breath and singing ah with the mouth
wide open, trying to feel the little delicate sound waves
strike the bony arch of the mouth just above the front
teeth. The sensation is so sUght that you will probably
not be able to detect it at once, but persevere in your prac-
tise, always thinking the tone forward, and you will be
rewarded by feeling your voice strike the roof of your
mouth. A correct forward-placing of the tone will do
away with the dark, throaty tones that are so impleasant,
ineflScient, and harmful to the throat.
Close the lips, humming ng, im, or an. Think the tone
forward. Do you feel it strike the lips?
Hold the palm of your hand in front of your face and say
vigorously crash^ dash, whirly buzz. Can you feel the for-
ward tones strike against your hand? Practise until you
THE VOICE 129
can. Remember, the only way to get your voice for-
ward is to put it forward.
How to Develop the Carrying Power of the Voice
It is not necessary to speak loudly in order to be heard
at a distance. It is necessary only to speak correctly.
Edith Wynne Matthison's voice will carry in a whisper
throughout a large theater. A paper rustling on the stage
of a large auditorium can be heard distinctly in the further-
most seat in the gallery. If you will only use your voice
correctly, you will not have much difficulty in being heard.
Of course it is always well to address your speech to your
furthest auditors; if they get it, those nearer will have
no trouble, but aside from this obvious suggestion, you
must observe these laws of voice production:
Remember to apply the principles of ease, openness and
forwardness — they are the prime factors in enabling your
voice to be heard at a distance.
Do not gaze at the floor as you talk. This habit not
only gives the speaker an amateurish appearance but if the
head is hung forward the voice will be directed towards the
ground instead of floating out over the audience.
Voice is a series of air vibrations. To strengthen it
two things are necessary: more air or breath, and more
vibration.
Breath is the very basis of voice. As a bullet with little
powder behind it will not have force and canying power,
so the voice that has little breath behind it will be weak.
Not only will deep breathing — ^breathing from the dia-
130 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
phragm — ^give the voice a better support, but it will give
it a stronger resonance by improving the general health.
Usually, ill health means a weak voice, while abundant
physical vitality is shown through a strong, vibrant voice.
Therefore anything that improves the general vitality is
an excellent voice strengthener, provided you use the voice
properly. Authorities differ on most of the rules of hy-
giene but on one point they all agree: vitaUtyand longevity
are increased by deep breathing. Practise this until it
becomes second nature. Whenever you are speaking,
take in deep breaths, but in such a manner that the in-
halations will be silent.
Do not try to speak too long without renewing your
breath. Nature cares for this pretty well unconsciously in
conversation, and she will do the same for you in platform
speaking if you do not interfere with her premonitions.
A certain very successful speaker developed voice carry-
ing power by nmning across country, practising his
speeches as he went. The vigorous exercise forced him
to take deep breaths, and developed lung power. A hard-
fought basketball or tennis game is an efficient way of
practising deep breathing. When these methods are not
convenient, we recommend the following:
Place your hands at your sides, on the waist line.
By trying to encompass your waist with your fingers
and thumbs, force all the air out of the lungs.
Take a deep breath. Remember, all the activity is to
be centered in the middle of the body; do not raise the
shoulders. As the breath is taken your hands will be
forced out.
THE VOICE 131
Repeat the exercise, placing your hands on the small
of the back and forcing them out as you inhale.
Many methods for deep breathing have been given by
various authorities. Get the air into your lungs — that is
the important thing.
The body acts as a sounding board for the voice just
as the body of the violin acts as a sounding board for its
tones. You can increase its vibrations by practise.
Place your finger on your lip and hum the musical scale,
thinking and placing the voice forward on the lips. Do
you feel the lips vibrate? After a little practise they will
vibrate, giving a tickling sensation.
Repeat this exercise, throwing the humming sound into
the nose. Hold the upper part of the nose between the
thumb and forefinger. Can you feel the nose vibrate?
Placing the palm of your hand on top of your head, re-
peat this humming exercise. Think the voice there as you
hum in head tones. Can you feel the vibration there?
Now place the palm of your hand on the back of your
head, repeating the foregoing process. Then try it on the
chest. Always remember to think your tone where you
desire to feel the vibrations. The mere act of thinking
about any portion of your body will tend to make it
vibrate.
Repeat the following, after a deep inhalation, endeavor-
ing to feel all portions of your body vibrate at the same
time. When you have attained this you will find that it
is a pleasant sensation.
What ho, my jovial mates. Come on! We will frolic it like
fairies, frisking in the merry moonshine.
132 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Purity of Voice
This quality is sometimes destroyed by wasting the
breath. Carefully control the breath, using only as much
as is necessary for the production of tone. Utilize all that
you give out. Failure to do this results in a breathy tone.
Take in breath like a prodigal; in speaking, give it out
like a miser.
Voice Suggestions
Never attempt to force your voice when hoarse.
Do not drink cold water when speaking. The sudden
shock to the heated organs of speech will injure the voice.
Avoid pitching your voice too high — it will make it
raspy. This is a common fault. When you find your
voice in too high a range, lower it. Do not wait until you
get to the platform to try this. Practise it in your daily
conversation. Repeat the alphabet, beginning A on the
lowest scale possible and going up a note on each suc-
ceeding letter, for the development of range. A wide range
will give you facility in making numerous changes of
pitch.
Do not form the habit of listening to your voice when
speaking. You will need your brain to think of what you
are saying — reserve your observation for private practise.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. What are the prime requisites for good voice?
2. Tell why each one is necessary for good voice pro-
duction.
THE VOICE 133
3. Give some exercises for development of these con-
ditions.
4. Why is range of voice desirable?
5. Tell how range of voice may be cultivated.
6. How much daily practise do you consider necessary
for the proper development of your voice?
7. How can resonance and carrying power be de-
veloped?
8. What are your voice faults?
9. How are you trying to correct them?
CHAPTER XIII
VOICE CHARM
A cheerful temper joined with innocence will make beauty-
attractive, knowledge delightful, and wit good-natured.
— ^Joseph Addison, The Tattler.
Poe said that "the tone of beauty is sadness," but he
was evidently thinking from cause to effect, not con-
trariwise, for sadness is rarely a producer of beauty —
that is peculiariy the province of joy.
The exquisite beauty of a sunset is not exhilarating but
tends to a sort of melancholy that is not far from delight.
The haunting beauty of deep, quiet music holds more than
a tinge of sadness. The lovely minor cadences of bird
song at twilight are almost depressing.
The reason we are affected to sadness by certain forms
of placid beauty is twofold: movement is stimulating and
joy-producing, while quietude leads to reflection, and re-
flection in turn often brings out the tone of regretful
longing for that which is past; secondly, quiet beauty
produces a vague aspiration for the relatively unattain-
able, yet does not stimulate to the tremendous effort
necessary to make the dimly desired state or object ours.
We must distinguish, for these reasons, between the
sadness of beauty and the joy of beauty. True, joy is a
deep, inner thing and takes in much more than the idea
of bounding, sanguine spirits, for it includes a certain
active contentedness of heart. In this chapter, however.
VOICE CHARM 135
the word will have its optimistic, exuberant connotation —
we are thinking now of vivid, bright-eyed, laughing joy.
Musical, joyous tones constitute voice charm, a sub-
tle magnetism that is delightfully contagious. Now it
might seem to the desultory reader that to take the lancet
and cut into this alluring voice quaUty would be to dissect
a butterfly wing and so destroy its charm. Yet how can
we induce an effect if we are not certain as to the cause?
Nasal Resonance Produces the Bell-tones of the Voice /^
The tone passages of the nose must be kept entirely
free for the bright tones of voice — and after our warning
in the preceding chapter you will not confuse what is
popularly and erroneously called a "nasal" tone with the
true nasal quality, which is so well illustrated by the
voice work of trained French singers and speakers.
To develop nasal resonance sing the following, dwelling
as long as possible on the ng sounds. Pitch the voice in
the nasal cavity. Practise both in high and low regis-
ters, and develop range — with brightness.
Sing-song. Ding-dong. Hong-kong. Long-thong.
Practise in the falsetto voice develops a bright quality
in the normal speaking-voice. Try the following, and
any other selections you choose, in a falsetto voice. A
man's falsetto voice is extremely high and womanish,
so men should not practise in falsetto after the exercise
becomes tiresome.
She perfectly scorned the best of his clan, and declared the
ninth of any man, a perfectly vulgar fraction.
136 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
The actress Mary Anderson asked the poet Long-
fellow what she could do to improve her voice. He re-
plied, "Read aloud daily, joyous, lyric poetry."
The joyous tones are the bright tones. Develop them
by exercise. Practise your voice exercises in an attitude
of joy. Under the influence of pleasure the body expands,
the tone passages open, the action of heart and lungs is
accelerated, and all the primary conditions for good tone
are established.
More songs float out from the broken windows of the
negro cabins in the South than from the palatial homes
on Fifth Avenue. Henry Ward Beecher said the hap-
piest days of his life were not when he had become an
international character, but when he was an unknown
minister out in Lawrenceville, Ohio, sweeping his own
church, and working as a carpenter to help pay the
grocer. Happiness is largely an attitude of mind, of view-
ing life from the right angle. The optimistic attitude can
be cultivated, and it will express itself in voice charm.
A telephone company recently placarded this motto in
their booths: "The Voice with the Smile Wins." It
does. Try it.
Reading joyous prose, or lyric poetry, will help put
smile and joy of soul into your voice. The following selec-
tions are excellent for practise.
REMEMBER that when you first practise these classics
you are to give sole attention to two things: a joyous
attitude of heart and body, and bright tones of voice.
After these ends have been attained to your satisfaction,
carefully review the principles of public speaking laid
VOICE CHARM I37
down in the preceding chapters and put them into practise
as you read these passages again and again. // would be
better to commit each selection to memory.
SELECTIONS FOR PRACTISE
FROM MILTON'S ''V ALLEGRO''
Haste thee, Nymph, and bring with thee
Jest, and youthful Jollity,
Quips and Cranks and wanton Wiles,
Nods and Becks, and wreathed Smiles,
Such as hang on Hebe's cheek,
And love to Uve in dimple sleek, —
Sport that wrinkled Care derides,
And Laughter holding both his
Come, and trip it as ye go
On the light fantastic toe;
And in thy right hand lead with thee
The mountain nymph, sweet Liberty:
And, if I give thee honor due.
Mirth, admit me of thy crew.
To Hve with her, and live with thee.
In unreprov^d pleasures free;
To hear the lark begin his flight.
And singing, startle the dull Night
From his watch-tower in the skies,
Till the dappled Dawn doth rise;
Then to come in spite of sorrow.
And at my window bid good-morrow
Through the sweetbrier, or the vine.
Or the twisted eglantine;
While the cock with Hvely din
Scatters the rear of darkness thin.
And to the stack, or the barn-door.
Stoutly struts his dames before;
138 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Oft listening how the hounds and horn
Cheerly rouse the slumbering Mom,
From the side of some hoar hill,
Through the high wood echoing shrill;
Sometime walking, not unseen,
By hedge-row elms, on hillocks green,
Right against the eastern gate.
Where the great Sun begins his state,
Robed in flames and amber light,
The clouds in thousand liveries dight,
While the plowman near at hand
Whistles o'er the furrowed land.
And the milkmaid singing blithe.
And the mower whets his scythe,
And every shepherd tells his tale,
Under the hawthorn in the dale.
THE SEA
The sea, the sea, the open sea.
The blue, the fresh, the ever free;
Without a mark, without a bound,
It runneth the earth's wide regions round;
It plays with the clouds, it mocks the skies,
Or like a cradled creature lies.
I'm on the sea, I'm on the sea,
I am where I would ever be.
With the blue above and the blue below.
And silence wheresoe'er I go.
If a storm should come and awake the deep,
What matter? I shall ride and sleep.
I love, oh! how I love to ride
On the fierce, foaming, bursting tide,
Where every mad wave drowns the moon.
And whistles aloft its tempest time,
And tells how goeth the world below.
And why the southwest wind doth blow!
I never was on the dull, tame shore
VOICE CHARM I39
But I loved the great sea more and more,
And backward flew to her billowy breast,
Like a bird that seeketh her mother's nest, —
And a mother she was and is to me,
For I was bom on the open sea.
The waves were white, and red the mom.
In the noisy hour when I was bom;
The whale it whistled, the porpoise rolled.
And the dolphins bared their backs of gold;
And never was heard such an outcry wild.
As welcomed to life the ocean child.
I have lived, since then, in calm and strife,
Full fifty summers a rover's life,
With wealth to spend, and a power to range.
But never have sought or sighed for change:
And death, whenever he comes to me,
Shall come on the wide, unbounded sea!
— Barry Cornwall.
The sun does not shine for a few trees and flowers, but for the
wide world's joy. The lonely pine upon the mountain-top waves
its sombre boughs, and cries, " Thou art my sun." And the little
meadow violet lifts its cup of blue, and whispers with its perfumed
breath, "Thou art my sun." And the grain in a thousand fields
rustles in the wind, and makes answer, "Thou art my sun."
And so God sits effulgent in Heaven, not for a favored few, but
for the universe of life; and there is no creature so poor or so low
that he may not look up with child-like confidence and say, " My
Father! Thou art mine." — Henry Ward Beecher.
THE LARK
Bird of the wilderness,
BHthesome and cumberless.
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea!
Emblem of happiness,
Blest is thy dwelling-place:
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee !
I40 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Wild is thy lay, and loud,
Far in the downy cloud, —
Love gives it energy; love gave it birth.
Where, on thy dewy wing
Where art thou joume5dng?
Thy lay is in heaven; thy love is on earth.
O'er fell and fountain sheen,
O'er moor and mountain green.
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day;
Over the cloudlet dim,
Over the rainbow's rim,
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!
Then, when the gloaming comes.
Low in the heather blooms.
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be !
Emblem of happiness.
Blest is thy dwelling-place.
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee!
— James Hogg.
In joyous conversation there is an elastic touch, a deli-
cate stroke, upon the central ideas, generally following
a pause. This elastic touch adds vivacity to the voice.
If you try repeatedly, it can be sensed by feeling the tongue
strike the teeth. The entire absence of elastic touch in
the voice can be observed in the thick tongue of the in-
toxicated man. Try to talk with the tongue lying still
in the bottom of the mouth, and you will obtain largely
the same effect. Vivacity of utterance is gained by using
the tongue to strike off the emphatic idea with a de-
cisive, elastic touch.
Deliver the following with decisive strokes on the
emphatic ideas. Deliver it in a vivacious manner,
noting the elastic touch-action of the tongue. A flexible,
VOICE CHARM I4I
responsive tongue is absolutely essential to good voice
work.
FROM NAPOLEON'S ADDRESS TO THE DIREC-
TORY ON HIS RETURN FROM EGYPT
What have you done with that brilliant France which I left
you? I left you at peace, and I find you at war. I left you
victorious, and I find you defeated. I left you the millions of
Italy, and I find only spoliation and poverty. What have you
done with the hundred thousand Frenchmen, my companions
in glory? They are dead! . . . This state of affairs cannot
last long; in less than three years it would pltmge us into des-
potism.
Practise the following selection, for the development
of elastic touch; say it in a joyous spirit, using the exer-
cise to develop voice charm in all the ways suggested in
this chapter.
THE BROOK
I come from haunts of coot and hem,
I make a sudden sally,
And sparkle out among the fern,
To bicker down a valley.
By thirty hills I hurry down.
Or slip between the ridges;
By twenty thorps, a Uttle town.
And half a hundred bridges.
Till last by Philip's farm I flow
To join the brimming river;
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I chatter over stony ways,
In little sharps and trebles,
142 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
I bubble into eddying bays,
I babble on the pebbles.
With many a curve my banks I fret,
By many a field and fallow,
And many a fairy foreland set
With willow-weed and mallow.
I chatter, chatter, as I flow
To join the brimming river;
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I wind about, and in and out,
With here a blossom sailing,
And here and there a lusty trout.
And here and there a grayling,
And here and there a foamy flake
Upon me, as I travel,
With many a silvery water-break
Above the golden gravel.
And draw them all along, and flow
To join the brimming river.
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
I steal by lawns and grassy plots,
I slide by hazel covers,
I move the sweet forget-me-nots
That grow for happy lovers.
I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,
Among my skimming swallows;
I make the netted sunbeam dance
Against my sandy shallows.
I murmur under moon and stars
In brambly wildernesses.
VOICE CHARM 143
I linger by my shingly bars,
I loiter round my cresses.
And out again I curve and flow
To join the brimming river;
For men may come and men may go,
But I go on forever.
— Alfred Tennyson.
The children at play on the street, glad from sheer
physical vitality, display a resonance and charm in their
voices quite different from the voices that float through
the silent halls of the hospitals. A skilled physician can
tell much about his patient's condition from the mere
soimd of the voice. Failing health, or even physical
weariness, tells through the voice. It is always well to rest
and be entirely refreshed before attempting to deliver a
public address. As to health, neither scope nor space
permits us to discuss here the laws of hygiene. There are
many excellent books on this subject. In the reign of the
Roman emperor Tiberius, one senator wrote to another:
"To the wise, a word is sufficient."
"The apparel oft proclaims the man;" the voice al-
ways does — ^it is one of the greatest revealers of character.
The superficial woman, the brutish man, the reprobate,
the person of culture, often discloses inner nature in the
voice, for even the cleverest dissembler cannot entirely
prevent its tones and qualities being affected by the
slightest change of thought or emotion. In anger it be-
comes high, harsh, and unpleasant; in love low, soft, and
melodious — the variations are as limitless as they are
fascinating to observe. Visit a theatrical hotel in a large
144 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
city, and listen to the buzz-saw voices of the chorus girls
from some burlesque "attraction." The explanation is
simple — ^buzz-saw lives. Emerson said: "When a man
lives with God his voice shall be as sweet as the murmur
of the brook or the rustle of the corn." It is impossible
to think selfish thoughts and have either an attractive
personality, a lovely character, or a charming voice. If
you want to possess voice charm, cultivate a deep, sincere
sympathy for mankind. Love will shine out through your
eyes and 'proclaim itself in your tones. One secret of
the sweetness of the canary's song may be his freedom from
tainted thoughts. Your character beautifies or mars
your voice. As a man thinketh in his heart so is his voice.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Define (a) charm; (b) joy; (c) beauty.
2. Make a list of all the words related to joy.
3. Write a three-minute eulogy of "The Joyful Man."
4. DeUver it without the use of notes. Have you care-
fully considered all the qualities that go to make up
voice-charm in its delivery?
$. Tell briefly in your own words what means may be
employed to develop a charming voice.
6. Discuss the effect of voice on character.
7. Discuss the effect of character on voice.
8. Analyze the voice charm of any speaker or singer
you choose.
9. Analyze the defects of any given voice.
10. Make a short humorous speech imitating certain
voice defects, pointing out reasons.
VOICE CHARM 14$
II. Commit the following stanza and interpret each
phase of delight suggested or expressed by the poet.
An infant when it gazes on a light,
A child the moment when it drains the breast,
A devotee when soars the Host in sight,
An Arab with a stranger for a guest,
A sailor when the prize has struck in fight,
A miser filling his most hoarded chest.
Feel rapture; but not such true joy are reaping
As they who watch o'er what they love while
sleeping.
— Byron, Don Juan,
CHAPTER XIV
DISTINCTNESS AND PRECISION OF UTTERANCE
In man speaks God.
— Hesiod, Words and Days.
And endless are the modes of speech, and far
Extends from side to side the field of words.
— Homer, Iliad.
In popular usage the terms "pronunciation," "enun-
ciation," and "articulation" are synonymous, but real
pronunciation includes three distinct processes, and may,
therefore be defined as, the utterance of a syllable or a
group of syllables with regard to articulation^ accentuation^
and enunciation.
Distinct and precise utterance is one of the most im-
portant considerations of public speech. How preposter-
ous it is to hear a speaker making sounds of "inarticulate
earnestness" under the contented delusion that he is
telling something to his audience! Telling? Telling
means communicating, and how can he actually com-
municate without making every word distinct?
Slovenly pronunciation results from either physical
deformity or habit. A surgeon or a surgeon dentist may
correct a deformity, but your own will, working by self-
observation and resolution in drill, will break a habit.
All depends upon whether you think it worth while.
Defective speech is so widespread that freedom from
it is the exception. It is painfully common to hear public
DISTINCTNESS AND PRECISION OF UTTERANCE 147
speakers mutilate the king's English. If they do not
actually murder it, as Curran once said, they often knock
an i out.
A Canadian clergyman, writing in the Homiletic Review,
relates that in his student days "a classmate who was an
Englishman supplied a country church for a Sunday. On
the following Monday he conducted a missionary meeting.
In the course of his address he said some farmers thought
they were doing their duty toward missions when they
gave their *hodds and hends' to the work, but the Lord
required more. At the close of the meeting a young woman
seriously said to a friend: 'I am sure the farmers do well
if they give their hogs and hens to missions. It is more
than most people can afford.' "
It is insufferable effrontery for any man to appear be-
fore an audience who persists in driving the h out of hap-
piness, home and heaven, and, to paraphrase Waldo
Messaros, will not let it rest in hell. He who does not
show enough self-knowledge to see in himself such glaring
faults, nor enough self-mastery to correct them, has no
business to instruct others. If he can do no better, he
should be silent. If he will do no better, he should also
be silent.
Barring incurable physical defects — and few are in-
curable nowadays — the whole matter is one of will. The
catalogue of those who have done the impossible by
faithful work is as inspiring as a roll-call of warriors.
The less there is of you," says Nathan Sheppard, "the
more need for you to make the most of what there is
of you."
148 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Articulation
Articulation is the forming and joining of the elementary
sounds of speech. It seems an appalling task to utter
articulately the third-of-a million words that go to make
up our English vocabulary, but the way to make a be-
ginning is really simple: learn to utter correctly, and with\\:
easy change from one to the other, each of the forty-fouri'il
elementary sounds in our language.
The reasons why articulation is so painfully slurred by
a great many public speakers are four: ignorance of
the elemental sounds; failure to discriminate between
soimds nearly alike; a slovenly, lazy use of the vocal
organs; and a torpid will. Anyone who is still master
of himself will know how to handle each of these
defects.
The vowel sounds are the most vexing source of errors,
especially where diphthongs are found. Who has not
heard such errors as are hit off in this inimitable verse by
Oliver Wendell Holmes:
Learning condemns beyond the reach of hope
The careless lips that speak of s6ap for s5ap;
Her edict exiles from her fair abode
The clownish voice that utters rOad for r5ad;
Less stern to him who calls his coat, a c6at
And steers his b5at believing it a b6at.
She pardoned one, our classic city's boast,
Who said at Cambridge, m5st instead of most,
But knit her brows and stamped her angry foot
To hear a Teacher call a root a rd6t.
The foregoing examples are all monosyllables, but bad
articulation is frequently the result of joining sounds that
DISTINCTNESS AND PREaSION OF UTTERANCE I49
do not belong together. For example, no one finds it
difficult to say beauty^ but many persist in pronouncing
duty as though it were spelled either dooty or juty. It
is not only from untaught speakers that we hear such
slovenly articulations as colyum for column, and pritty
for pretty, but even great orators occasionally offend quite
as unblushingly as less noted mortals.
Nearly all such are errors of carelessness, not of pure
ignorance — of carelessness because the ear never tries
to hear what the lips articulate. It must be exasperating
to a foreigner to find that the elemental sound ou gives
him no hint for the pronunciation of hough, cough, rough,
thorough, and through, and we can well forgive even a man
of culture who occasionally loses his way amidst the in-
tricacies of English articulation, but there can be no ex-
cuse for the slovenly utterance of the simple vowel sounds
which form at once the life and the beauty of our language.
He who is too lazy to speak distinctly should hold his
tongue.
The consonant sounds occasion serious trouble only for
those who do not look with care at the spelling of words
about to be pronounced. Nothing but carelessness can
account for saying Jacop, Babtist, sevem, alwus, or sadisfy.
"He that hath yaws to yaw, let him yaw," is the ren-
dering which an Anglophobiac clergyman gave of the
familiar scripture, "He that hath ears to hear, let him
hear." After hearing the name of Sir Humphry Davy
pronounced, a Frenchman who wished to write to the
eminent Englishman thus addressed the letter: "Serum
Fridavi."
150 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Accentuation
Accentuation is the stressing of the proper syllables^:^^*^
in words. This it is that is popularly called pronuncia-
tion. For instance, we properly say that a word is mis-
pronounced when it is accented in'-vite instead of in-vite'j
though it is really an offense against only one form of
pronunciation — accentuation.
It is the work of a lifetime to learn the accents of a large
vocabulary and to keep pace with changing usage; but
an alert ear, the study of word-origins, and the dictionary
habit, will prove to be mighty helpers in a task that can
never be finally completed.
Enunciation
Correct enunciation is the complete utterance of all==*==
the sounds of a syllable or a word. Wrong articulation
gives the wrong sound to the vowel or vowels of a word or
a syllable, as doo for dew\ or unites two sounds improp-
erly, as hully for wholly. Wrong enunciation is the
incomplete utterance of a syllable or a word, the sound
omitted or added being usually consonantal. To say
needcessity instead of necessity is a wrong articulation; to
say doin for doing is improper enunciation. The one ar-
ticulates— that is, joints — two sounds that should not be
joined, and thus gives the word a positively wrong
sound; the other fails to touch all the sounds in the
word, and in that particular way also sounds the word
incorrectly.
"My tex' may be foun' in the fif ' and six' verses of the
DISTINCTNESS AND PRECISION OF UTTERANCE 151
secon' chapter of Titus; and the subjec' of my discourse
is *The Gover'ment of ar Homes.' "i
What did this preacher do with his final consonants?
This slovenly dropping of essential sounds is as offensive
as the common habit of running words together so that
they lose their individuality and distinctness. Lighten
dark, uppen down, doncher know, particular, zamination,
are all too common to need comment.
Imperfect enunciation is due to lack of attention and
to Igizy lips. It can be corrected by resolutely attending
to the formation of syllables as they are uttered. Flexi-
ble lips will enunciate difficult combinations of sounds
without slighting any of them, but such flexibility can-
not be attained except by habitually uttering words with
distinctness and accuracy. A daily exercise in enunciat-
ing a series of sounds will in a short time give flexibility
to the lips and alertness to the mind, so that no word will
be uttered without receiving its due complement of sound.
Returning to our definition, we see that when the sounds
of a word are properly articulated, the right syllables
accented, and full value given to each sound in its enun-
ciation, we have correct pronunciation. Perhaps one word
of caution is needed here, lest any one, anxious to bring
out clearly every sound, should overdo the matter and
neglect the unity and smoothness of pronunciation. Be
careful not to bring syllables into so much prominence
as to make words seem long and angular. The joints
must be kept decently dressed.
Before delivery, do not fail to go over your manu-
^School and College Speaker, Mitchell.
152 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
script and note every sound that may possibly be mis-
pronounced. Consult the dictionary and make assurance
doubly sure. K the arrangement of words is xmfavor-
able to clear enunciation, change either words or order,
and do not rest until you can follow Hamlet's directions
to the players.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Practise repeating the following rapidly, paying
particular attention to the consonants.
"Foolish Flavius, flushing feverishly, fiercely found fault with
Flora's frivolity.*"
Mary's matchless mimicry makes much mischief.
Seated on shining shale she sells sea shells.
You youngsters yielded your youthful yule-tide yearnings
yesterday.
2. Sound the / in each of the following words, repeated
in sequence:
Blue black blinkers blocked Black Blondin's eyes.
3. Do you say a bloo sky or a bliie sky?
4. Compare the u sound in few and in new. Say each
aloud, and decide which is correct, Noo Yorky New Yawky
or New York?
5. Pay careful heed to the directions of this chapter
in reading the following, from Hamlet. After the inter-
view with the ghost of his father, Hamlet tells his friends
Horatio and Marcellus that he intends to act a part:
Horatio. O day and night, but this is wondrous strange!
Hamlet. And therefore as a stranger give it welcome.
^School and CoUege Speaker, Mitchell.
DISTINCTNESS AND PREaSION OF UTTERANCE 1 53
There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.
But come;
Here, as before, never, so help you mercy.
How strange or odd so'er I bear myself, —
As I perchance hereafter shall think meet
To put an antic disposition on, —
That you, at such times seeing me, never shall.
With arms encumber'd thus, or this head-shake.
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase.
As "Well, well, we know," or "We could, an if we would,"
Or "If we list to speak," or "There be, an if there might,"
Or such ambiguous giving-out, to note
That you know aught of me: this not to do,
So grace and mercy at your most need help you.
Swear.
— Act I. Scene V.
6. Make a list of common errors of pronunciation,
saying which are due to faulty articulation, wrong ac-
centuation, and incomplete enunciation. In each case
make the correction.
7. Criticise any speech you may have heard which
displayed these faults.
8. Explain how the false shame of seeming to be too
precise may hinder us from cultivating perfect verbal
utterance.
9. Over-precision is likewise a fault. To bring out
any syllable unduly is to caricature the word. Be moder-
ate in reading the following:
THE LAST SPEECH OF MAXIMILIAN DE
ROBESPIERRE
The enemies of the Republic call me tyrant ! Were I such they
would grovel at my feet. I should gorge them with gold, I should
154 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
grant them immunity for their crimes, and they would be grate-
ful. Were I such, the kings we have vanquished, far from de-
nouncing Robespierre, would lend me their guilty support; there
would be a covenant between them and me. Tyranny must
have tools. But the enemies of tyranny, — whither does their
path tend? To the tomb, and to immortality! What tyrant is
my protector? To what faction do I belong? Yourselves! What
faction, since the beginning of the Revolution, has crushed and
annihilated so many detected traitors? You, the people, — our
principles — are that faction — a faction to which I am devoted,
and against which all the scoundrelism of the day is banded !
The confirmation of the Republic has been my object; and I
know that the Republic can be established only on the eternal
basis of morality. Against me, and against those who hold
kindred principles, the league is formed. My life? Oh! my life
I abandon without a regret ! I have seen the past; and I foresee
the future. What friend of this country would wish to survive
the moment when he could no longer serve it, — when he could
no longer defend innocence against oppression? Wherefore
should I continue in an order of things, where intrigue eternally
triumphs over truth; where justice is mocked; where passions
the most abject, or fears the most absurd, over-ride the sacred
interests of humanity? In witnessing the multitude of vices which
the torrent of the Revolution has rolled in turbid communion
with its civic virtues, I confess that I have sometimes feared that
I should be sullied, in the eyes of posterity, by the impure neigh-
borhood of unprincipled men, who had thrust themselves into
association with the sincere friends of humanity; and I rejoice
that these conspirators against my country have now, by their
reckless rage, traced deep the line of demarcation between them-
selves and all true men.
Question history, and learn how all the defenders of liberty,
in all times, have been overwhelmed by calumny. But their
traducers died also. The good and the bad disappear alike from
the earth; but in very different conditions. O Frenchmen! O
my countrymen! Let not your enemies, with their desolating
doctrines, degrade your souls, and enervate your virtues! No,
Chaumette, no! Death is not "an eternal sleep!" Citizens!
efface from the tomb that motto, graven by sacrilegious hands,
DISTINCTNESS AND PRECISION OF UTTERANCE 1 55
which spreads over all nature a funereal crape, takes from op-
pressed innocence its support, and affronts the beneficent dis-
pensation of death ! Inscribe rather thereon these words : ' ' Death
is the commencement of immortality! " I leave to the oppressors
of the People a terrible testament, which I proclaim with the in-
dependence befitting one whose career is so nearly ended; it is
the awful truth— "Thou shalt die!"
CHAPTER XV
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE
When Whitefield acted an old blind man advancing by slow
steps toward the edge of the precipice, Lord Chesterfield started
up and cried: " Good God, he is gone! "
— Nathan Sheppard, Before an Audience.
Gesture is really a simple matter that requires observa-
tion and common sense rather than a book of rules. Ges-
ture is an outward expression of an inward condition. It
is merely an effect — the effect of a mental or an emotional
impulse struggling for expression through physical avenues.
You must not, however, begin at the wrong end: if you
are troubled by your gestures, or a lack of gestures, attend
to the cause, not the effect. It will not in the least help
matters to tack on to your delivery a few mechanical
movements. If the tree in your front yard is not growing
to suit you, fertilize and water the soil and let the tree have
sunshine. Obviously it will not help your tree to nail on a
few branches. If your cistern is dry, wait until it rains;
or bore a well. Why plimge a pump into a dry hole?
The speaker whose thoughts and emotions are welling
within him like a mountain spring will not have much
trouble to make gestures; it will be merely a question of
properly directing them. If his enthusiasm for his subject
is not such as to give him a natural impulse for dramatic
action, it will avail nothing to furnish him with a long
list of rules. He may tack on some movements, but they
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE I57
will look like the wilted branches nailed to a tree to simu-
late life. Gestures must be born, not built. A wooden
horse may amuse the children, but it takes a live one to
go somewhere.
It is not only impossible to lay down definite rules on
this subject, but it would be silly to try, for everything
depends on the speech, the occasion, the personaUty and
feelings of the speaker, and the attitude of the audience.
It is easy enough to forecast the result of multiplying seven
by six, but it is impossible to tell any man what kind of
gestures he will be impelled to use when he wishes to
show his earnestness. We may tell him that many
speakers close the hand, with the exception of the fore-
finger, and pointing that finger straight at the audience
pour out their thoughts like a volley; or that others stamp
one foot for emphasis; or that Mr. Bryan often slaps his
hands together for great force, holding one palm upward
in an easy manner; or that Gladstone would sometimes
make a rush at the clerk's table in Parliament and smite
it with his hand so forcefully that D'israeli once brought
down the house by grimly congratulating himself that such
a barrier stood between himself and "the honorable
gentleman."
All these things, and a bookful more, may we tell the
speaker, but we cannot know whether he can use these
gestures or not, any more than we can decide whether he
could wear Mr. Bryan's clothes. The best that can be
done on this subject is to offer a few practical suggestions,
and let personal good taste decide as to where effective
dramatic action ends and extravagant motion begins.
158 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Any Gesture That Merely Calls Attention to Itself Is Bad \
The purpose of a gesture is to carry your thought and
feeling into the minds and hearts of your hearers; this
it does by emphasizing your message, by interpreting it,
by expressing it in action, by striking its tone in either a
physically descriptive, a suggestive, or a typical gesture —
and let it be remembered all the time that gesture includes
all physical movement, from facial expression and the
tossing of the head to the expressive movements of hand
and foot. A shifting of the pose may be a most effective
gesture.
What is true of gesture is true of all life. If the people
on the street turn around and watch your walk, your walk
is more important than you are — change it. If the at-
tention of your audience is called to your gestures, they are
not convincing, because they appear to be — what they
have a doubtful right to be in reaUty — studied. Have you
ever seen a speaker use such grotesque gesticulations that
you were fascinated by their frenzy of oddity, but could
not follow his thought? Do not smother ideas with gym-
nastics. Savonarola would rush down from the high pul-
pit among the congregation in the duomo at Florence and
carry the fire of conviction to his hearers; Billy Sunday
slides to base on the platform carpet in dramatizing one of
his baseball illustrations. Yet in both instances the mes-
sage has somehow stood out bigger than the gesture — it
is chiefly in calm afterthought that men have remembered
the form of dramatic expression. When Sir Henry Irving
made his famous exit as "Shylock'* the last thing the audi-
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE 1 59
ence saw was his pallid, avaricious hand extended skinny
and claw-like against the background. At the time, every
one was overwhelmed by the tremendous typical quality
of this gesture; now, we have time to think of its art,
and discuss its realistic power.
Only when gesture is subordinated to the absorbing
importance of the idea — a spontaneous, living expression
of living truth — is it justifiable at all; and when it is re-
membered for itself — as a piece of unusual physical
energy or as a poem of grace — it is a dead failure as dra-
matic expression. There is a place for a unique style
of walking — it is the circus or the cake-walk; there
is a place for surprisingly rhythmical evolutions of
arms and legs — it is on the dance floor or the stage.
Don't let your agility and grace put your thoughts out of
business.
One of the present writers took his first lessons in ges-
ture from a certain college president who knew far more
about what had happened at the Diet of Worms than he
did about how to express himself in action. His instruc-
tions were to start the movement on a certain word, con-
tinue it on a precise curve, and unfold the fingers at the
conclusion, ending with the forefinger — just so. Plenty,
and more than plenty, has been published on this subject,
giving just such silly directions. Gesture is a thing of
mentality and feeling — not a matter of geometry. Re-
member, whenever a pair of shoes, a method of pronuncia-
tion, or a gesture calls attention to itself, it is bad. When
you have made really good gestures in a good speech your
hearers will not go away saying, "What beautiful gestures
l6o THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
he made!" but they will say, "I'll vote for that measure."
"He is right — I believe in that."
Gestures Should Be Born of the Moment
The best actors and public speakers rarely know in ad-
vance what gestures they are going to make. They make
one gesture on certain words tonight, and none at all to-
morrow night at the same point — their various moods and
interpretations govern their gestures. It is all a matter
of impulse and intelligent feeling with them — don't over-
look that word intelligent. Nature does not always pro-
vide the same kind of sunsets or snow flakes, and the move-
ments of a good speaker vary almost as much as the crea-
tions of nature.
Now all this is not to say that you must not take some
thought for your gestures. If that were meant, why this
chapter? When the sergeant despairingly besought the
recruit in the awkward squad to step out and look at him-
self, he gave splendid advice — and worthy of personal
application. Particularly while you are in the learning
days of public speaking you must learn to criticise your
own gestures. Recall them — see where they were use-
less, crude, awkward, what not, and do better next time.
There is a vast deal of difference between being conscious
of self and being self-conscious.
It will require your nice discrimination in order to cul-
tivate spontaneous gestures and yet give due attention
to practise. While you depend upon the moment it is
vital to remember that only a dramatic genius can ef-
fectively accomplish such feats as we have related of
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE l6t
Whitefield, Savonarola, and others; and doubtless the
first time they were used they came in a burst of spon-
taneous feeling, yet Whitefield declared that not until
he had delivered a sermon forty times was its delivery
perfected. What spontaneity initiates let practise com-
plete. Every effective speaker and every vivid actor has
observed, considered and practised gesture until his
dramatic actions are a sub-conscious possession, just like
his ability to pronounce correctly without especially con-
centrating his thought. Every able platform man has
possessed himself of a dozen ways in which he might de-
pict in gesture any given emotion; in fact, the means for
such expression are endless — and this is precisely why it is
both useless and harmful to make a chart of gestures and
enforce them as the ideals of what may be used to express
this or that feeling. Practise descriptive, suggestive, and
typical movements until they come as naturally as a
good articulation; and rarely forecast the gestures you
will use at a given moment: leave something to that
moment.
Avoid Monotony in Gesture
■--ii.
Roast beef is an excellent dish, but it would be terrible
as an exclusive diet. No matter how effective one
gesture is, do not overwork it. Put variety in your
actions. Monotony will destroy all beauty and power.
The pump handle makes one effective gesture, and
on hot days that one is very eloquent, but it has its
limitations.
Z62 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Any Movement that is not Significant^ Weakens
Do not forget that. Restlessness is not expression. A
great many useless movements will only take the attention
of the audience from what you are saying. A widely-
noted man introduced the speaker of the evening one
Sunday lately to a New York audience. The only thing
remembered about that introductory speech is that the
speaker played nervously with the covering of the table
as he talked. We naturally watch moving objects. A
janitor putting down a window can take the attention of
the hearers from Mr. Roosevelt. By making a few move-
ments at one side of the stage a chorus girl may draw the
interest of the spectators from a big scene between the
"leads." When our forefathers lived in caves they had to
watch moving objects, for movements meant danger. We
have not yet overcome the habit. Advertisers have taken
advantage of it — witness the moving electric light signs"
in any city. A shrewd speaker will respect this law and
conserve the attention of his audience by eliminating all
unnecessary movements.
Gesture Should either be Simultaneous with or Precede the
Words — not Follow Them
Lady Macbeth says: "Bear welcome in your eye, your
hand, your tongue." Reverse this order and you get
comedy. Say, "There he goes," pointing at him after
you have finished your words, and see if the result is not
comical.
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE 1 63
Do Not Make Short, Jerky Movements ^
Some speakers seem to be imitating a waiter who has
failed to get a tip. Let your movements be easy, and from
the shoulder, as a rule, rather than from the elbow. But
do not go to the other extreme and make too many flowing
motions — that savors of the lackadaisical.
Put a little "punch" and life into your gestures. You
can not, however, do this mechanically. The audience will
detect it if you do. They may not know just what is
wrong, but the gesture will have a false appearance to
them.
Facial Expression is Important __^
Have you ever stopped in front of a Broadway theater
and looked at the photographs of the cast? Notice the
row of chorus girls who are supposed to be expressing
fear. Their attitudes are so mechanical that the attempt
is ridiculous. Notice the picture of the "star" expressing
the same emotion: his muscles are drawn, his eyebrows
lifted, he shrinks, and fear shines through his eyes. That
actor jelt fear when the photograph was taken. The
chorus girls felt that it was time for a rarebit, and more
nearly expressed that emotion than they did fear. Inci-
dentally, that is one reason why they stay in the chorus.
The movements of the facial muscles may mean a great
deal more than the movements of the hand. The man who
sits in a dejected heap with a look of despair on his face
is expressing his thoughts and feelings just as effectively
as the man who is waving his arms and shouting from the
Z64 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
back of a dray wagon. The eye has been called the window
of the soul. Through it shines the light of our thoughts
and feelings.
Do Not Use Too Much Gesture /-'"V-.^^ —
As a matter of fact, in the big crises of life we do not go
through many actions. When your closest friend dies
you do not throw up your hands and talk about your grief.
You are more likely to sit and brood in dry-eyed silence.
The Hudson River does not make much noise on its way
to the sea — it is not half so loud as the little creek up in
Bronx Park that a bullfrog could leap across. The
barking dog never tears your trousers — at least they say
he doesn't. Do not fear the man who waves his arms and
shouts his anger, but the man who comes up quietly with
eyes flaming and face burning may knock you down. Fuss
is not force. Observe these principles in nature and prac-
tise them in your delivery.
The writer of this chapter once observed an instructor
drilling a class in gesture. They had come to the passage
from Henry VIH in which the humbled Cardinal says:
"Farewell, a long farewell to all my greatness." It is
one of the pathetic passages of literature. A man uttering
such a sentiment would be crushed, and the last thing on
earth he would do would be to make flamboyant move-
ments. Yet this class had an elocutionary manual be-
fore them that gave an appropriate gesture for every oc-
casion, from pa)dng the gas bill to death-bed farewells.
So they were instructed to throw their arms out at full
length on each side and say: "Farewell, a long farewell
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE 1 65
to all my greatness." Such a gesture might possibly be
used in an after-dinner speech at the convention of a
telephone company whose lines extended from the Atlantic
to the Pacific, but to think of Wolsey's using that move-
ment would suggest that his fate was just.
Posture
The physical attitude to be taken before the audience
really is included in gesture. Just what that attitude
should be depends, not on rules, but on the spirit of the
speech and the occasion. Senator La Follette stood for
three hours with his weight thrown on his forward foot
as he leaned out over the footlights, ran his fingers through
his hair, and flamed out a denunciation of the trusts. It
was very effective. But imagine a speaker taking that
kind of position to discourse on the development of road-
making machinery. If you have a fiery, aggressive mes-
sage, and will let yourself go, nature will naturally pull
your weight to your forward foot. A man in a hot political
argument or a street brawl never has to stop to think upon
which foot he should throw his weight. You may some-
times place your weight on your back foot if you have a
restful and calm message — but don't worry about it:
just stand like a man who genuinely feels what he is
saying. Do not stand with your heels close together, like
a soldier or a butler. No more should you stand with them
wide apart like a traffic policeman. Use simple good
manners and common sense.
Here a word of caution is needed. We have advised you
to allow your gestures and postures to be spontaneous
l66 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
and not woodenly prepared beforehand, but do not go
to the extreme of ignoring the importance of acquiring
mastery of your physical movements. A muscular hand,
made flexible by free movement, is far more likely to be
an effective instrument in gesture than a stifi", pudgy
bunch of fingers. If your shoulders are lithe and carried
well, while your chest does not retreat from association
with your chin, the chances of using good extemporaneous
gestures are so much the better. Learn to keep the back
of your neck touching your collar, hold your chest high,
and keep down your waist measure.
So attention to strength, poise, flexibility, and grace
of body are the foundations of good gesture, for they are
expressions of vitality, and without vitality no speaker
can enter the kingdom of power. When an awkward giant
like Abraham Lincoln rose to the sublimest heights of
oratory he did so because of the greatness of his soul —
his very ruggedness of spirit and artless honesty were
properly expressed in his gnarly body. The fire of charac-
ter, of earnestness, and of message swept his hearers be-
fore him when the tepid words of an insincere Apollo
would have left no effect. But be sure you are a second
Lincoln before you despise the handicap of physical
awkwardness.
"Ty" Cobb has confided to the public that when he
is in a batting slump he even stands before a mirror, bat
in hand, to observe the "swing" and "follow through"
of his batting form. If you would learn to stand well be-
fore an audience, look at yourself in a mirror — ^but not
too often. Practise walking and standing before the
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE 167
mirror so as to conquer awkwardness — ^not to cultivate a
pose. Stand on the platform in the same easy manner
that you would use before guests in a drawing-room. If
your position is not graceful, make it so by dancing,
gymnasium work, and hy getting grace and poise in your
mind.
Do not continually hold the same position. Any big
change of thought necessitates a change of position. Be
at home. There are no rules — ^it is all a matter of taste.
While on the platform forget that you have any hands
until you desire to use them — then remember them effec-
tively. Gravity will take care of them. Of course, if
you want to put them behind you, or fold them once in
a while, it is not going to ruin your speech. Thought and
feeling are the big things in speaking — not the position of a
foot or a hand. Simply put your limbs where you want
them to be — ^you have a will, so do not neglect to use it.
Let us reiterate, do not despise practise. Your gestures
and movements may be spontaneous and still be wrong.
No matter how natural they are, it is possible to improve
them.
It is impossible for anyone — even yourself — to criticise
your gestures until after they are made. You can't
prune a peach tree until it comes up; therefore speak
much, and observe your own speech. While you are ex-
amining yourself, do not forget to study statuary and
paintings to see how the great portrayers of nature have
made their subjects express ideas through action. Notice
the gestures of the best speakers and actors. Observe
the physical expression of life everywhere. The leaves
1 68 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
on the tree respond to the slightest breeze. The muscles
of your face, the light of your eyes, should respond to the
slightest change of feeling. Emerson says: "Every man
that I meet is my superior in some way. In that I learn
of him." Illiterate Italians make gestures so wonderful
and beautiful that Booth or Barrett might have sat at
their feet and been instructed. Open your eyes. Emerson
says again: "We are immersed in beauty, but our eyes
have no clear vision." Toss this book to one side; go
out and watch one child plead with another for a bite of
apple; see a street brawl; observe life in action. Do you
want to know how to express victory? Watch the victors'
hands go high on election night. Do you want to plead
a cause? Make a composite photograph of all the pleaders
in daily life you constantly see. Beg, borrow, and steal
the best you can get, BUT DON'T GIVE IT OUT AS
THEFT, Assimilate it until it becomes a part of you —
then let the expression come out.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. From what source do you intend to study gesture?
2. What is the first requisite of good gestures? Why?
3. Why is it impossible to lay down steel-clad rules
for gesturing?
4. Describe (a) a graceful gesture that you have ob-
served; {h) a forceful one; (c) an extravagant one; {d)
an inappropriate one.
5. What gestures do you use for emphasis? Why?
6. How can grace of movement be acquired?
7. When in doubt about a gesture what would you do?
THE TRUTH ABOUT GESTURE 169
8. What, according to your observations before a
mirror, are your faults in gesturing?
9. How do you intend to correct them?
10. What are some of the gestures, if any, that you
might use in delivering Thurston's speech, page 50;
Grady's speech, page 36? Be specific.
1 1 . Describe some particularly appropriate gesture that
you have observed. Why was it appropriate?
12. Cite at least three movements in nature that
might well be imitated in gesture.
13. What would you gather from the expressions:
descriptive gesture, suggestive gesture, and typical gesture?
14. Select any elemental emotion, such as fear, and
try, by picturing in your mind at least five different situ-
ations that might call forth this emotion, to express its
several phases by gesture — including posture, movement,
and facial expression,
15. Do the same thing for such other emotions as you
may select.
16. Select three passages from any source, only being
sure that they are suitable for public delivery, memorize
each, and then devise gestures suitable for each. Say why.
17. Criticise the gestures in any speech you have heard
recently.
18. Practise flexible movement of the hand. What
exercises did you find useful?
19. Carefully observe some animal; then devise
several typical gestures.
20. Write a brief dialogue between any two animals;
read it aloud and invent expressive gestures.
lyo THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
21. Deliver, with appropriate gestures, the quotation
that heads this chapter.
22. Read aloud the following incident, using dramatic
gestures:
When Voltaire was preparing a young actress to appear in one
of his tragedies, he tied her hands to her sides with pack thread
in order to check her tendency toward exuberant gesticulation.
Under this condition of compulsory immobility she commenced
to rehearse, and for some time she bore herself calmly enough;
but at last, completely carried away by her feelings, she burst
her bonds and flung up her arms. Alarmed at her supposed
neglect of his instructions, she began to apologize to the poet;
he smilingly reassured her, however; the gesture was then admir-
able, because it was irrepressible. — Red way. The Actor's Art.
23. Render the following with suitable gestures:
One day, while preaching, Whitefield "suddenly assumed a
nautical air and manner that were irresistible with him," and
broke forth in these words: "Well, my boys, we have a clear sky,
and are making fine headway over a smooth sea before a light
breeze, and we shall soon lose sight of land. But what means
this sudden lowering of the heavens, and that dark cloud arising
from beneath the western horizon? Hark! Don't you hear dis-
tant thunder? Don't you see those flashes of lightning? There
is a storm gathering ! Every man to his duty ! The air is dark ! —
the tempest rages! — our masts are gone! — the ship is on her beam
ends! What next? " At this a number of sailors in the congrega-
tion, utterly swept away by the dramatic description, leaped
to their feet and cried: "The longboat! — take to the longboat!"
— Nathan Sheppard, Before an Audience.
CHAPTER XVI
METHODS OF DELIVERY
The crown, the consummation, of the discourse is its delivery.
Toward it all preparation looks, for it the audience waits, by it
the speaker is judged All the forces of the
orator's life converge in his oratory. The logical acuteness with
which he marshals the facts around his theme, the rhetorical
facility with which he orders his language, the control to which
he has attained in the use of his body as a single organ of ex-
pression, whatever richness of acquisition and experience are
his — these all are now incidents; the fact is the sending of his
message home to his hearers The hour of
delivery is the "supreme, inevitable hour" for the orator. It
is this fact that makes lack of adequate preparation such an
impertinence. And it is this that sends such thrills of indescrib-
able joy through the orator's whole being when he has achieved
a success — it is like the mother forgetting her pangs for the joy
of bringing a son into the world.
— ^J. B. E., How to Attract and Hold an Audience.
There are four fundamental methods of deUvering.an
address; all others are modifications of one or more of
these: reading from manuscript, committing the written
speech and speaking from memory, speaking from notes,
and extemporaneous speech. It is impossible to say which
form of deUvery is best for all speakers in all circumstances
— in deciding for yourself you should consider the oc-
casion, the nature of the audience, the character of your
subject, and your own hmitations of time and ability.
However, it is worth while warning you not to be lenient
in self -exaction. Say to yourself courageously: What
172 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Others can do, I can attempt. A bold spirit conquers
where others flinch, and a trying task challenges pluck.
Reading from Manuscript
This method really deserves short shrift in a book on
public speaking, for, delude yourself as you may, public
reading is not public speaking. Yet there are so many who
grasp this broken reed for support that we must here dis-
cuss the "read speech" — apologetic misnomer as it is.
Certainly there are occasions — among them, the open-
ing of Congress, the presentation of a sore question before
a deliberative body, or a historical commemoration —
when it may seem not alone to the "orator" but to all
those interested that the chief thing is to express certain
thoughts in precise language — in language that must not
be either misunderstood or misquoted. At such times
oratory is unhappily elbowed to a back bench, the manu-
script is solemnly withdrawn from the capacious inner
pocket of the new frock coat, and everyone settles himself
resignedly, with only a feeble flicker of hope that the
so-called speech may not be as long as it is thick. The
words may be golden, but the hearers' (?) eyes are prone
to be leaden, and in about one instance out of a hundred
does the perpetrator really deliver an impressive address.
His excuse is his apology — ^he is not to be blamed, as a
rule, for some one decreed that it would be dangerous to
cut loose from manuscript moorings and take his audience
with him on a really delightful sail.
One great trouble on such "great occasions" is that the
essayist — ^for such he is — has been chosen not because
METHODS OF DELIVERY 1 73
of his speaking ability but because his grandfather fought
in a certain battle, or his constituents sent him to Congress,
or his gifts in some Une of endeavor other than speaking
have distinguished him.
As well choose a surgeon from his ability to play golf.
To be sure, it always interests an audience to see a great
man; because of his eminence they are likely to listen to
his words with respect, perhaps with interest, even when
droned from a manuscript. But how much more effective
such a deUverance would be if the papers were cast aside!
Nowhere is the read-address so common as in the pulpit
— the pulpit, that in these days least of all can afford to
invite a handicap. Doubtless many clergymen prefer
finish to fervor — let them choose: they are rarely men who
sway the masses to acceptance of their message. What
they gain in precision and elegance of language they lose
in force.
There are just four motives that can move a man to
read his address or sermon:
I. Laziness is the commonest. Enough said. Even
Heaven cannot make a lazy man efficient.
__ 2. A memory so defective that he really cannot speak
without reading. Alas, he is not speaking when he is
reading, so his dilemma is painful — and not to himself
alone. But no man has a right to assume that his memory
is utterly bad until he has buckled down to memory cul-
ture— and failed. A weak memory is oftener an excuse
than a reason.
^3. A genuine lack of time to do more than write the
speech. There are such instances — but they do not occur
174 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
every week! The disposition of your time allows more
flexibility than you realize. Motive 3 too often harnesses
up with Motive i.
4. A conviction that the speech is too important to
risk forsaking the manuscript. But, if it is vital that every
word should be so precise, the style so polished, and the
thoughts so logical, that the preacher must write the sermon
entire, is not the message important enough to warrant
extra effort in perfecting its delivery? It is an insult to
a congregation and disrespectful to Almighty God to
put the phrasing of a message above the message itself.
To reach the hearts of the hearers the sermon must be
delivered — it is only half delivered when the speaker
cannot utter it with original fire and force, when he merely
repeats words that were conceived hours or weeks before
and hence are like champagne that has lost its fizz. The
reading preacher's eyes are tied down to his manuscript;
he cannot give the audience the benefit of his expression.
How long would a play fill a theater if the actors held their
cue-books in hand and read their parts? Imagine Patrick
Henry reading his famous speech; Peter-the-Hermit,
manuscript in hand, exhorting the crusaders; Napoleon,
constantly looking at his papers, addressing the army at
the Pyramids; or Jesus reading the Sermon on the Mount!
These speakers were so full of their subjects, their general
preparation had been so richly adequate, that there was
no necessity for a manuscript, either to refer to or to serve
as "an outward and visible sign" of their preparedness.
No event was ever so dignified that it required an arti-
ficial attempt at speech making. Call an essay by its
METHODS OF DELIVERY 175
right name, but never call it a speech. Perhaps the most
dignified of events is a supplication to the Creator. If
you ever listened to the reading of an original prayer you
must have felt its superficiality.
Regardless of what the theories may be about manu-
script delivery, the fact remains that it does not work out
with efficiency. Avoid it whenever at all possible. — ^
Committing the Written Speech and Speaking from Memory
This method has certain points in its favor. If you have
time and leisure, it is possible to polish and rewrite your
ideas until they are expressed in clear, concise terms.
Pope sometimes spent a whole day in perfecting one
couplet. Gibbon consimied twenty years gathering
material for and rewriting the "Decline and Fall of the
Roman Empire." Although you cannot devote such
painstaking preparation to a speech, you should take time
to eliminate useless words, crowd whole paragraphs into
a sentence and choose proper illustrations. Good speeches,
like plays, are not written; they are rewritten. The
National Cash Register Company follows this plan with
their most efficient selling organization : they require their
salesmen to memorize verbatim a selling talk. They
maintain that there is one best way of putting their
selling arguments, and they insist that each salesman use
this ideal way rather than employ any haphazard phrases
that may come into his mind at the moment.
The method of writing and committing has been adopted
by many noted speakers; Julius Caesar, Robert IngersoU,
and, on some occasions, Wendell Phillips, were distin-
176 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
guished examples. The wonderful effects achieved by
famous actors were, of course, accomplished through the
delivery of memorized lines.
The inexperienced speaker must be warned before
attempting this method of delivery that it is difficult
and trying. It requires much skill to make it efficient.
The memorized lines of the young speaker will usually
sound like memorized words, and repel.
If you want to hear an example, listen to a department
store demonstrator repeat her memorized lingo about the
newest furniture polish or breakfast food. It requires
training to make a memorized speech sound fresh and
spontaneous, and, unless you have a fine native memory,
in each instance the finished product necessitates much
labor. Should you forget a part of your speech or miss
a few words, you are Uable to be so confused that, like
Mark Twain's guide in Rome, you will be compelled to
repeat your lines from the beginning.
On the other hand, you may be so taken up with trying
to recall your written words that you will not abandon
yourself to the spirit of your address, and so fail to deliver
it with that spontaneity which is so vital to forceful de-
livery.
But do not let these difficulties frighten you. If com-
mitting seems best to you, give it a faithful trial. Do not
be deterred by its pitfalls, but by resolute practise avoid
them.
One of the best ways to rise superior to these difficulties
is to do as Dr. Wallace Radcliffe often does: commit
without writing the speech, making practically all the
METHODS OF DELIVERY 1 77
preparation mentally, without putting pen to paper — a
laborious but effective way of cultivating both mind and
memory.
You will find it excellent practise, both for memory and
delivery, to commit the specimen speeches found in this
volimie and declaim them, with all attention to the prin-
ciples we have put before you. William EUery Channing,
himself a distinguished speaker, years ago had this to say
of practise in declamation:
"Is there not an amusement, having an afl&nity with
the drama, which might be usefully introduced among us?
I mean. Recitation. A work of genius, recited by a man
of fine taste, enthusiasm, and powers of elocution, is a
very pure and high gratification. Were this art cultivated
and encouraged, great numbers, now insensible to the most
beautiful compositions, might be waked up to their excel-
lence and power."
Speaking from Notes
The third, and the most popular method of deHvery,
is probably also the best one for the beginner. Speaking
from notes is not ideal deUvery, but we learn to swim in
shallow water before going out beyond the ropes.
Make a definite plan for your discourse (for a fuller
discussion see Chapter XVIII) and set down the points
somewhat in the fashion of a lawyer's brief, or a preacher's
outline. Here is a sample of very simple notes:
ATTENTION
I. Introduction.
Attention indispensable to the performance of any
great work. Anecdote.
178 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
II. Defined and Illustrated.
1. From common observation.
2. From the Kves of great men < , ^
( Robert E. Lee.
in. Its Relation to Other Mental Powers.
1. Reason.
2. Imagination.
3. Memory.
4. Will. Anecdote.
IV. Attention May be Cultivated.
1. Involuntary attention.
2. Voluntary attention. Examples.
V. Conclusion.
The consequences of inattention and of attention.
Few briefs would be so precise as this one, for with
experience a speaker learns to use little tricks to attract
his eye — he may imderscore a catch-word heavily, draw
a red circle around a pivotal idea, enclose the key-word
of an anecdote in a wavy-lined box, and so on indefi-
nitely. These points are worth remembering, for nothing
so eludes the swift-glancing eye of the speaker as the
sameness of typewriting, or even a regular pen-script.
So imintentional a thing as a blot on the page may help
you to remember a big "point" in your brief — ^perhaps
by association of ideas.
An inexperienced speaker would probably require
fuller notes than the specimen given. Yet that way lies
danger, for the complete manuscript is but a short remove
METHODS OF DELIVERY 1 79
from the copious outline. Use as few notes as possible.
They may be necessary for the time being, but do not
fail to look upon them as a necessary evil; and even when
you lay them before you, refer to them only when com-
pelled to do so. Make your notes as full as you please in
preparation, but by all means condense them for plat-
form use.
Extemporaneous Speech ^^^
Surely this is the ideal method of delivery. It is f ar ^
and away the most popular with the audience, and the ,/
favorite method of the most efficient speakers.
"Extemporaneous speech" has sometimes been made
to mean unprepared speech, and indeed it is too often
precisely that; but in no such sense do we recommend
it strongly to speakers old and yoimg. On the contrary,
to speak well without notes requires all the preparation
which we discussed so fully in the chapter on "Fluency,"
while yet relying upon the "inspiration of the hour" for
some of your thoughts and much of your language. You
had better remember, however, that the most effective
inspiration of the hour is the inspiration you yourself
bring to it, bottled up in your spirit and ready to infuse
itself into the audience.
If you extemporize you can get much closer to your audi-
ence. In a sense, they appreciate the task you have before
you and send out their sympathy. Extemporize, and you
will not have to stop and fimible around amidst your
notes — ^you can keep your eye afire with your message
and hold your audience with your very glance. You
l8o THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
yourself will feel their response as you read the effects
of your warm, spontaneous words, written on their
countenances.
Sentences written out in the study are liable to be dead
and cold when resurrected before the audience. When
you create as you speak you conserve all the native fire
of your thought. You can enlarge on one point or omit
another, just as the occasion or the mood of the audience
may demand. It is not possible for every speaker to use
this, the most difficult of all methods of dehvery, and
least of all can it be used successfully without much
practise, but it is the ideal towards which all should strive.
One danger in this method is that you may be led aside
from your subject into by-paths. To avoid this peril,
firmly stick to your mental outline. Practise speaking
from a memorized brief until you gain control. Join a
debating society — talk, talk^ TALK, and always extem-
porize. You may "make a fool of yourself" once or twice,
but is that too great a price to pay for success?
Notes, like crutches, are only a sign of weakness. Re-
member that the power of your speech depends to some
extent upon the view your audience holds of you. Gen-
eral Grant's words as president were more powerful than
his words as a Missouri farmer. If you would appear in
the light of an authority, be one. Make notes on your
brain instead of on paper.
Joint Methods of Delivery
-A modification of the second method has been adopted
by many great speakers, particularly lecturers who are
METHODS OF DELIVERY l8l
compelled to speak on a wide variety of subjects day after
day; such speakers often commit their addresses to
memory but keep their manuscripts in flexible book form
before them, turning several pages at a time. They feel
safer for having a sheet-anchor to windward — but it is
an anchor, nevertheless, and hinders rapid, free sailing,
though it drag never so lightly.
Other speakers throw out a still lighter anchor by
keeping before them a rather full outline of their written
and committed speech.
Others again write and commit a few important parts
of the address — the introduction, the conclusion, some
vital argument, some pat illustration — and depend on
the hour for the language of the rest. This method is
well adapted to speaking either with or without notes.
Some speakers read from manuscript the most important
parts of their speeches and utter the rest extemporane-
ously.
Thus, what we have called "joint methods of delivery"
are open to much personal variation. You must decide
for yourself which is best for you, for the occasion, for
your subject, for your audience — for these four factors
all have their individual claims.
Whatever form you choose, do not be so weakly indif-
ferent as to prefer the easy way — choose the best way,
whatever it cost you in time and effort. And of this be
assured: only the practised speaker can hope to gain
both conciseness of argument and conviction in manner,
polish of language and power in delivery, finish of style
and fire in utterance.
l82 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Which in your judgment is the most suitable form
of delivery for you? Why?
2. What objections can you offer to, (a) memorizing
the entire speech; (b) reading from manuscript; (c) using
notes; (d) speaking from memorized outline or notes;
(e) any of the "joint methods*'?
3. What is there to commend in delivering a speech
in any of the foregoing methods?
4. Can you suggest any combination of methods that
you have found efficacious?
5. What methods, according to your observation, do
most successful speakers use?
6. Select some topic from the list on page 123, narrow
the theme so as to make it specific (see page 122), and
deliver a short address, utilizing the four methods men-
tioned, in four different deliveries of the speech.
7. Select one of the joint methods and apply it to the
deUvery of the same address.
8. Which method do you prefer, and why?
9. From the list of subjects in the Appendix select a
theme and deliver a five-minute address without notes,
but make careful preparation without putting your
thoughts on paper.
Note: It is earnestly hoped that instructors will
not pass this stage of the work without requiring of their
students much practise in the delivery of original speeches,
in the manner that seems, after some experiment, to be
best suited to the student's gifts. Students who are
studying alone should be equally exacting in demand upon
METHODS OF DELIVERY lS$
themselves. One point is most important: It is easy to
learn to read a speech, therefore it is much more urgent
that the pupil should have much practise in speaking
from notes and speaking without notes. At this stage, pay
more attention to manner than to matter — the succeeding
chapters take up the composition of the address. Be
particularly insistent upon frequent and thorough review of
the principles of delivery discussed in the preceding
chapters.
CHAPTER XVII
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER
Providence is always on the side of the last reserve.
— Napoleon Bonaparte
So mightiest powers by deepest calms are fed,
And sleep, how oft, in things that gentlest be!
— Barry Cornwall, The Sea in Calm.
What would happen if you should overdraw your bank
account? As a rule the check would be protested; but if
you were on friendly terms with the bank, your check
might be honored, and you would be called upon to make
good the overdraft.
Nature has no such favorites, therefore extends no
credits. She is as relentless as a gasoline tank — when the
"gas" is all used the machine stops. It is as reckless for
a speaker to risk going before an audience without having
something in reserve as it is for the motorist to essay a
long journey in the wilds without enough gasoline in sight.
But in what does a speaker's reserve power consist?
In a well-founded reliance on his general and particular
grasp of his subject; in the quality of being alert and
resourceful in thought — particularly in the ability to
think while on his feet; and in that self-possession which
makes one the captain of all his own forces, bodily and
mental.
The first of these elements, adequate preparation, and
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER 1 85
the last, self-reliance, were discussed fully in the chapters
on "Self-Confidence" and "Fluency," so they will be
touched only incidentally here; besides, the next chapter
will take up specific methods of preparation for public
speaking. Therefore the central theme of this chapter is
the second of the elements of reserve power — Thought.
The Mental Storehouse
An empty mind, like an empty larder, may be a serious
matter or not — all will depend on the available resources.
If there is no food in the cupboard the housewife does not
nervously rattle the empty dishes; she telephones the
grocer. If you have no ideas, do not rattle your empty ers
and ahs^ but get some ideas, and don't speak until you do
get them.
This, however, is not being what the old New England
housekeeper used to call "forehanded." The real solution
of the problem of what to do with an empty head is never
to let it become empty. In the artesian wells of Dakota
the water rushes to the surface and leaps a score of feet
above the ground. The secret of this exuberant flow is of
course the great supply below, crowding to get out.
What is the use of stopping to prime a mental pump
when you can fill your life with the resources for an
artesian well? It is not enough to have merely enough;
you must have more than enough. Then the pressure of
your mass of thought and feeling will maintain your flow
of speech and give you the confidence and poise that
denote reserve power. To be away from home with only
1 86 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the exact return fare leaves a great deal to circumstances!
Reserve power is magnetic. It does not consist in
giving the idea that you are holding something in re-
serve, but rather in the suggestion that the audience is
getting the cream of your observation, reading, experi-
ence, feeling, thought. To have reserve power, therefore,
you must have enough milk of material on hand to supply
sufficient cream.
But how shall we get the milk? There are two ways:
the one is first-hand — from the cow; the other is second-
hand— from the milkman.
The Seeing Eye
Some sage has said: "For a thousand men who can
speak, there is only one who can think; for a thousand
men who can think, there is only one who can see." To
see and to think is to get your milk from your own cow.
When the one man in a milUon who can see comes along,
we call him Master. Old Mr. Holbrook, of "Cranford,"
asked his guest what color ash-buds were in March; she
confessed she did not know, to which the old gentleman
answered: "I knew you didn't. No more did I — an old
fool that I am! — till this young man comes and tells me.
* Black as ash-buds in March.' And I've lived all my life
in the country. More shame for me not to know. Black;
they are jet-black, madam."
"This young man" referred to by Mr. Holbrook was
Tennyson.
Henry Ward Beecher said: "I do not believe that I
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER 187
have ever met a man on the street that I did not get from
him some element for a sermon. I never see anything in
nature which does not work towards that for which I give
the strength of my life. The material for my sermons is
all the time following me and swarming up around me."
Instead of saying only one man in a million can see, it
would strike nearer the truth to say that none of us sees
with perfect understanding more than a fraction of what
passes before our eyes, yet this faculty of acute and accu-
rate observation is so important that no man ambitious to
lead can neglect it. The next time you are in a car, look
at those who sit opposite you and see what you can dis-
cover of their habits, occupations, ideals, nationalities,
environments, education, and so on. You may not see a
great deal the first time, but practise will reveal astonish-
ing results. Transmute every incident of your day into a
subject for a speech or an illustration. Translate all that
you see into terms of speech. When you can describe all
that you have seen in definite words, you are seeing
clearly. You are becoming the millionth man.
De Maupassant's description of an author should also
fit the public-speaker: *'His eye is like a suction pump,
absorbing everything; like a pickpocket's hand, always
at work. Nothing escapes him. He is constantly collect-
ing material, gathering-up glances, gestures, intentions,
everything that goes on in his presence — the slightest
look, the least act, the merest trifle." De Maupassant
was himself a millionth man, a Master.
"Ruskin took a common rock-crystal and saw hidden
within its stolid heart lessons which have not yet ceased
l88 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
to move men's lives. Beecher stood for hours before the
window of a jewelry store thinking out analogies between
jewels and the souls of men. Gough saw in a single drop
of water enough truth wherewith to quench the thirst of
five thousand souls. Thoreau sat so still in the shadowy-
woods that birds and insects came and opened up their
secret lives to his eye. Emerson observed the soul of a
man so long that at length he could say, 'I cannot hear
what you say, for seeing what you are.' Preyer for three
years studied the life of his babe and so became an
authority upon the child mind. Observation! Most men
are blind. There are a thousand times as many hidden
truths and undiscovered facts about us to-day as have
made discoverers famous — facts waiting for some one to
'pluck out the heart of their mystery.' But so long as
men go about the search with eyes that see not, so long
will these hidden pearls lie in their shells. Not an orator
but who could more effectively point and feather his
shafts were he to search nature rather than libraries. Too
few can see * sermons in stones ' and * books in the running
brooks,' because they are so used to seeing merely sermons
in books and only stones in running brooks. Sir Philip
Sidney had a saying, 'Look in thy heart and write;'
Massillon explained his astute knowledge of the human
heart by saying, 'I learned it by studying myself;' Byron
says of John Locke that ' all his knowledge of the human
understanding was derived from studying his own mind.'
Since multiform nature is all about us, originality ought
not to be so rare."i
^How to attract and Hold an Audience, J. Berg Esenwein.
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER 189
The Thinking Mind
Thinking is doing mental arithmetic with facts. Add
this fact to that and you reach a certain conclusion.
Subtract this truth from another and you have a definite
result. Multiply this fact by another and have a pre-
cise product. See how many times this occurrence hap-
pens in that space of time and you have reached a cal-
culable dividend. In thought-processes you perform
every known problem of arithmetic and algebra. That is
why mathematics are such excellent mental gymnastics.
But by the same token, thinking is work. Thinking takes
energy. Thinking requires time, and patience, and broad
information, and clearheadedness. Beyond a miserable
little surface-scratching, few people really think at all —
only one in a thousand, according to the pundit already
quoted. So long as the present system of education pre-
vails and children are taught through the ear rather than
through the eye, so long as they are expected to remember
thoughts of others rather than think for themselves, this
proportion will continue — one man in a million will be
able to see, and one in a thousand to think.
But, however thought-less a mind has been, there is
promise of better things so soon as the mind detects its
own lack of thought-power. The first step is to stop
regarding thought as "the magic of the mind," to use
Byron's expression, and see it as thought truly is — a
weighing of ideas and a placing of them in relationships to
each other. Ponder this definition and see if you have
learned to think efficiently.
190 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Habitual thinking is just that — a habit. Habit comes
of doing a thing repeatedly. The lower habits are ac-
quired easily, the higher ones require deeper grooves if
they are to persist. So we find that the thought-habit
comes only with resolute practise; yet no effort will
yield richer dividends. Persist in practise, and whereas
you have been able to think only an inch-deep into a
subject, you will soon find that you can penetrate it a
foot.
Perhaps this homely metaphor will suggest how to
begin the practise of consecutive thinking, by which we
mean welding a number of separate thought-links into a
chain that will hold. Take one link at a time, see that each
naturally belongs with the ones you link to it, and remem-
ber that a single missing link means no chain.
Thinking is the most fascinating and exhilarating of all
mental exercises. Once realize that your opinion on a
subject does not represent the choice you have mad/
between what Dr. Cerebrum has written and Profes^r
Cerebelltmi has said, but is the result of your own, ear-
nestly-applied brain-energy, and you will gain a confidence
in your abiUty to speak on that subject that nothing will
be able to shake. Your thought will have given you both
power and reserve power.
Someone has condensed the relation of thought to
knowledge in these pungent, homely lines:
" Don't give me the man who thinks he thinks,
Don't give me the man who thinks he knows,
But give me the man who knows he thinks,
And I have the man who knows he knows!"
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER I9I
Reading As a Stimulus to Thought
No matter how dry the cow, however, nor how poor our
ability to milk, there is still the milkman — we can read
what others have seen and felt and thought. Often,
indeed, such records will kindle within us that pre-essential
and vital s{>ark, the desire to be a thinker.
The following selection is taken from one of Dr. Newell
Dwight Hillis's lectures, as given in "A Man's Value to
Society." Dr. Hillis is a most fluent speaker — ^he never
refers to notes. He has reserve power. His mind is a
veritable treasure-house of facts and ideas. See how he
draws from a knowledge of fifteen different general or
special subjects: geology, plant life, Palestine, chemistry,
Eskimos, mythology, literature. The Nile, history, law,
wit, evolution, religion, biography, and electricity. Surely,
it needs|no sage to discover that the secret of this man's
reserve power is the old secret of our artesian well whose
abundance surges from unseen depths.
THE USES OF BOOKS AND READING^
Each Kingsley approaches a stone as a jeweler approaches a
casket to unlock the hidden gems. Geikie causes the bit of hard
coal to unroll the juicy bud, the thick odorous leaves, the pun-
gent boughs, until the bit of carbon enlarges into the beauty of a
tropic forest. That little book of Grant Allen's called "How
Plants Grow" exhibits trees and shrubs as eating, drinking and
marrying. We see certain date groves in Palestine, and other
date groves in the desert a hundred miles away, and the pollen
of the one carried upon the trade winds to the branches of the
other. We see the tree with its strange system of water-works,
^Used by permission.
192 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
pumping the sap up through pipes and mains; we see the
chemical laboratory in the branches mixing flavor for the orange
in one bough, mixing the juices of the pineapple in another; we
behold the tree as a mother making each infant acorn ready
against the long winter, rolling it in swaths soft and warm as
wool blankets, wrapping it around with garments impervious to
the rain, and finally slipping the infant acorn into a sleeping bag,
like those the Eskimos gave Dr. Kane.
At length we come to feel that the Greeks were not far wrong
in thinking each tree had a dryad in it, animating it, protecting
it against destruction, dying when the tree withered. Some
Faraday shows us that each drop of water is a sheath for electric
forces sufficient to charge 800,000 Leyden jars, or drive an
engine from Liverpool to London. Some Sir William Thomson
tells us how hydrogen gas will chew up a large iron spike as a
child's molars will chew off the end of a stick of candy. Thus
each new book opens up some new and hitherto unexplored
realm of nature. Thus books fulfill for us the legend of the
wondrous glass that showed its owner all things distant and
all things hidden. Through books our world becomes as "a
bud from the bower of God's beauty; the sun as a spark from
the light of His wisdom; the sky as a bubble on the sea of His
Power." Therefore Mrs. Browning's words, "No child can be
called fatherless who has God and his mother; no youth can be
called friendless who has God and the companionship of good
books."
Books also advantage us in that they exhibit the unity of
progress, the solidarity of the race, and the continuity of history.
Authors lead us back along the pathway of law, of liberty or
religion, and set us down in front of the great man in whose
brain the principle had its rise. As the discoverer leads us from
the mouth of the Nile back to the headwaters of Nyanza, so
books exhibit great ideas and institutions, as they move for-
ward, ever widening and deepening, like some Nile feeding
many civilizations. For all the reforms of to-day go back to
some reform of yesterday. Man's art goes back to Athens and
Thebes. Man's laws go back to Blackstone and Justinian. Man's
reapers and plows go back to the savage scratching the ground
with his forked stick, drawn by the wild bullock. The heroes of
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER I93
liberty march forward in a solid column. Lincoln grasps the
hand of Washington. Washington received his weapons at the
hands of Hampden and Cromwell. The great Puritans lock
hands with Luther and Savonarola.
The unbroken procession brings us at length to Him whose
Sermon on the Mount was the very charter of liberty. It puts
us under a divine spell to perceive that we are all coworkers
with the great men, and yet single threads in the warp and
woof of civilization. And when books have related us to our
own age, and related all the epochs to God, whose providence is
the gulf stream of history, these teachers go on to stimulate us
to new and greater achievements. Alone, man is an unlighted
candle. The mind needs some book to kindle its faculties.
Before Byron began to write he used to give half an hour to read-
ing some favorite passage. The thought of some great writer
never failed to kindle Byron into a creative glow, even as a
match lights the kindlings upon the grate. In these burning,
luminous moods Byron's mind did its best work. The true book
stimulates the mind as no wine can ever quicken the blood. It
is reading that brings us to our best, and rouses each faculty to
its most vigorous life.
We recognize this as pure cream, and if it seems at first
to have its secondary source in the friendly milkman, let
us not forget that the theme is "The Uses of Books and
Reading." Dr. Hillis both sees and thinks.
It is fashionable just now to decry the value of reading.
We read, we are told, to avoid the necessity of thinking
for ourselves. Books are for the mentally lazy.
Though this is only a half-truth, the element of truth
it contains is large enough to make us pause. Put your-
self through a good old Presbyterian soul-searching self-
examination, and if reading-from-thought-laziness is one
of your sins, confess it. No one can shrive you of it —
but yourself. Do penance for it by using your own brains,
194 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
for it is a transgression that dwarfs the growth of thought
and destroys mental freedom. At first the penance will
be trying — ^but at the last you will be glad in it.
Reading should entertain, give information, or stimulate
thought. Here, however, we are chiefly concerned with
information, and stimulation of thought.
What shall I read for information?
The ample page of knowledge, as Grey tells us, is "rich
with the spoils of time," and these are ours for the price
of a theatre ticket. You may command Socrates and
Marcus Aurelius to sit beside you and discourse of their
choicest, hear Lincoln at Gettysburg and Pericles at
Athens, storm the Bastile with Hugo, and wander through
Paradise with Dante. You may explore darkest Africa
with Stanley, penetrate the human heart with Shakes-
peare, chat with Carlyle about heroes, and delve with
the Apostle Paul into the mysteries of faith. The
general knowledge and the inspiring ideas that men
have collected through ages of toil and experiment
are yours for the asking. The Sage of Chelsea was
right: "The true university of these days is a collection
of books."
To master a worth-while book is to master much else
besides; few of us, however, make perfect conquest of a
volume without first owning it physically. To read a
borrowed book may be a joy, but to assign your own book
a place of its own on your own shelves — be they few or
many — to love the book and feel of its worn cover, to
thumb it over slowly, page by page, to pencil its margins
in agreement or in protest, to smile or thrill with its
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER I95
remembered pungencies — no mere book borrower could
ever sense all that delight.
The reader who possesses books in this double sense
finds also that his books possess him, and the volumes
which most firmly grip his life are likely to be those it has
cost him some sacrifice to own. Those lightly-come-by
titles, which Mr. Fatpurse selects, perhaps by proxy, can
scarcely play the guide, philosopher and friend in crucial
moments as do the books — long coveted, joyously attained
— that are welcomed into the lives, and not merely the
libraries, of us others who are at once poorer and richer.
So it is scarcely too much to say that of all the many
ways in which an owned — a mastered — ^book is like to a
human friend, the truest ways are these: A friend is worth
making sacrifices for, both to gain and to keep; and our
loves go out most dearly to those into whose inmost lives
we have sincerely entered.
When you have not the advantage of the test of time
by which to judge books, investigate as thoroughly as
possible the authority of the books you read. Much that
is printed and passes current is counterfeit. "I read it
in a book" is to many a suflScient warranty of truth, but
not to the thinker. "What book?" asks the careful
mind. "Who wrote it? What does he know about the
subject and what right has he to speak on it? Who
recognizes him as authority? With what other recognized
authorities does he agree or disagree?" Being caught
trying to pass counterfeit money, even unintentionally,
is an impleasant situation. Beware lest you circulate
spurious coin.
196 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Above all, seek reading that makes you use your own
brains. Such reading must be alive with fresh points of
view, packed with special knowledge, and deal with sub-
jects of vital interest. Do not confine your reading to
what you already know you will agree with. Opposition
wakes one up. The other road may be the better, but
you will never know it unless you "give it the once over."
Do not do all your thinking and investigating in front of
given "Q. E. D.'s;" merely assembling reasons to fill in
between your theorem and what you want to prove will
get you nowhere. Approach each subject with an open
mind and — once sure that you have thought it out thor-
oughly and honestly — have the courage to abide by the
decision of your own thought. But don't brag about it
afterward.
No book on public speaking will enable you to discourse
on the tariff if you know nothing about the tariff. Know-
ing more about it than the other man will be your only
hope for making the other man listen to you.
Take a group of men discussing a governmental policy
of which some one says: "It is socialistic." That will
commend the policy to Mr. A., who believes in socialism,
but condemn it to Mr. B., who does not. It may be that
neither had considered the policy beyond noticing that its
surface-color was socialistic. The chances are, further-
more, that neither Mr. A. nor Mr. B. has a definite idea
of what socialism really is, for as Robert Louis Stevenson
says, "Man lives not by bread alone but chiefly by catch
words." If you are of this group of men, and have ob-
served this proposed government policy, and investigated
THOUGHT AND RESERVE POWER 1 97
it, and thought about it, what you have to say cannot
fail to command their respect and approval, for you will
have shown them that you possess a grasp of your subject
and — to adopt an exceedingly expressive bit of slang —
then some.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Robert Houdin trained his son to give one swift
glance at a shop window in passing and be able to report
accurately a surprising number of its contents. Try this
several times on different windows and report the result.
2. What effect does reserve power have on an audi-
ence?
3. What are the best methods for acquiring reserve
power?
4. What is the danger of too much reading?
5. Analyze some speech that you have read or heard
and notice how much real information there is in it. Com-
pare it with Dr. Hillis's speech on "Brave Little Belgium,"
page 394.
6. Write out a three-minute speech on any subject
you choose. How much information, and what new ideas,
does it contain? Compare your speech with the extract
on page 191 from Dr. Hillis's "The Uses of Books and
Reading."
7. Have you ever read a book on the practise of
thinking? If so, give your impressions of its value.
Note: There are a number of excellent books on the
subject of thought and the management of thought. The
following are recommended as being especially helpful;
ipS THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
"Thinking and Learning to Think," Nathan C. Schaeffer;
"Talks to Students on the Art of Study," Cramer; "As
a Man Thinketh," Allen.
8. Define (a) logic; (b) mental philosophy (or mental
science); (c) psychology; (d) abstract.
CHAPTER XVIII
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION
Suit your topics to your strength,
And ponder well your subject, and its length;
Nor lift your load, before you're quite aware
What weight your shoulders will, or will not, bear.
— Byron, Hints from Horace.
Look to this day, for it is life — the very life of life. In its brief
course lie all the verities and realities of your existence: the
bliss of growth, the glory of action, the splendor of beauty. For
yesterday is already a dream and tomorrow is only a vision; but
today, well lived, makes every yesterday a dream of happiness
and every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well, therefore, to
this day. Such is the salutation of the dawn.
— From the Sanskrit,
In the chapter preceding we have seen the influence of
"Thought and Reserve Power" on general preparedness
for public speech. But preparation consists in something
more definite than the cultivation of thought-power,
whether from original or from borrowed sources — it in-
volves a specifically acquisitive attitude of the whole life.
If you would become a full soul you must constantly take
in and assimilate, for in that way only may you hope to
give out that which is worth the hearing; but do not con-
fuse the acquisition of general information with the mas-
tery of specific knowledge. Information consists of a fact
or a group of facts; knowledge is organized information —
knowledge knows a fact in relation to other facts.
200 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Now the important thing here is that you should set
all your faculties to take in the things about you with the
particular object of correlating them and storing them for
use in public speech. You must hear with the speaker's
ear, see with the speaker's eye, and choose books and com-
panions and sights and sounds with the speaker's purpose
in view. At the same time, be ready to receive unplanned-
for knowledge. One of the fascinating elements in your
life as a public speaker will be the conscious growth in
power that casual daily experiences bring. If your eyes
are alert you will be constantly discovering facts, illus-
trations, and ideas without having set out in search of
them. These all may be turned to account on the plat-
form; even the leaden events of hum-drum daily life may
be melted into bullets for future battles.
Conservation of Time in Preparation
But, you say, I have so little time for preparation — my
mind must be absorbed by other matters. Daniel Webster
never let an opportunity pass to gather material for his
speeches. When he was a boy working in a sawmill he
read out of a book in one hand and busied himself at some
mechanical task with the other. In youth Patrick Henry
roamed the fields and woods in solitude for days at a time
imconsciously gathering material and impressions for his
later service as a speaker. Dr. Russell H. Conwell, the
man who, the late Charles A. Dana said, had addressed
more hearers than any living man, used to memorize long
passages from Milton while tending the boiling syrup-
pans in the silent New England woods at night. The
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 20I
modern employer would discharge a Webster of today for
inattention to duty, and doubtless he would be justified,
and Patrick Henry seemed only an idle chap even in those
easy-going days; but the truth remains: those who take
in power and have the purpose to use it efficiently will
some day win to the place in which that stored-up power
will revolve great wheels of influence.
Napoleon said that quarter hours decide the destinies
of nations. How many quarter hours do we let drift by
aimlessly! Robert Louis Stevenson conserved all his time;
every experience became capital for his work — for capital
may be defined as "the results of labor stored up to assist
future production." He continually tried to put into
suitable language the scenes and actions that were in evi-
dence about him. Emerson says: "Tomorrow will be
like today. Life wastes itself whilst we are preparing to
Uve."
Why wait for a more convenient season for this broad,
general preparation? The fifteen minutes that we spend
on the car could be profitably turned into speech-capital.
Procure a cheap edition of modern speeches, and by
cutting out a few pages each day, and reading them during
the idle minute here and there, note how soon you can
make yourself famiUar with the world's best speeches.
If you do not wish to mutilate your book, take it with
you — ^most of the epoch-making books are now printed
in small volumes. The daily waste of natural gas in the
Oklahoma^fields is equal to ten thousand tons of coal.
Only about three per cent of the power of the coal that
enters thejfurnace ever diffuses itseK from your electric
202 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
bulb as light — the other ninety-seven per cent is wasted.
Yet these wastes are no larger, nor more to be lamented,
than the tremendous waste of time which, if conserved,
would increase the speaker's powers to their nth degree.
Scientists are making three ears of corn grow where one
grew before; eflSciency engineers are eliminating useless
motions and products from our factories: catch the spirit of
the age and apply eflSciency to the use of the most valuable
asset you possess — time. What do you do mentally with
the time you spend in dressing or in shaving? Take some
subject and concentrate your energies on it for a week
by utilizing just the spare moments that would otherwise
be wasted. You will be amazed at the result. One pas-
sage a day from the Book of Books, one golden ingot from
some master mind, one fully-possessed thought of your own
might thus be added to the treasury of your life. Do not
waste your time in ways that profit you nothing. Fill
"the unforgiving minute" with "sixty seconds' worth of
distance run" and on the platform you will be immeasura-
bly the gainer.
Let no word of this, however, seem to decry the value
of recreation. Nothing is more vital to a worker than
rest — ^yet nothing is so vitiating to the shirker. Be sure
that your recreation re-creates. A pause in the midst of
labors gathers strength for new effort. The mistake is to
pause too long, or to fill your pauses with ideas that make
life flabby.
Choosing a Subject
Subject and materials tremendously influence each
other.
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 203
"This arises from the fact that there are two distinct
ways in which a subject may be chosen: by arbitrary
choice, or by development from thought and reading.
"Arbitrary choice .... of one subject from among
a number involves so many important considerations that
no speaker ever fails to appreciate the tone of satisfaction
in him who triumphantly announces: *I have a subject!'
" *Do give me a subject!' How often the weary school
teacher hears that cry. Then a list of themes is suggested,
gone over, considered, and, in most instances, rejected,
because the teacher can know but imperfectly what is
in the pupil's mind. To suggest a subject in this way is
like trying to discover the street on which a lost child lives,
by naming over a number of streets until one strikes the
little one's ear as sounding familiar.
"Choice by development is a very different process.
It does not ask. What shall I say? It turns the mind in
upon itself and asks, What do I think? Thus, the subject
may be said to choose itself, for in the process of thought
or of reading one theme rises into prominence and becomes
a living germ, soon to grow into the discourse. He who
has not learned to reflect is not really acquainted with his
own thoughts; hence, his thoughts are not productive.
Habits of reading and reflection will supply the speaker's
mind with an abundance of subjects of which he already
knows something from the very reading and reflection
which gave birth to his theme. This is not a paradox, but
sober truth.
"It must be already apparent that the choice of a subject
by development savors more of collection than of con-
204 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
scious selection. The subject 'pops into the mind.'
. . . . In the intellect of the trained thinker it con-
centrates— by a process which we have seen to be induc-
tion— the facts and truths of which he has been reading
and thinking. This is most often a gradual process. The
scattered ideas may be but vaguely connected at first, but
more and more they concentrate and take on a single form,
until at length one strong idea seems to grasp the soul
with irresistible force, and to cry aloud, 'Arise, I am your
theme! Henceforth, until you transmute me by the
alchemy of your inward fire into vital speech, you shall
know no rest!' Happy, then, is that speaker, for he has
found a subject that grips him.
"Of course, experienced speakers use both methods of
selection. Even a reading and reflective man is sometimes
compelled to hunt for a theme from Dan to Beersheba,
and then the task of gathering materials becomes a serious
one. But even in such a case there is a sense in which the
selection comes by development, because no careful
speaker settles upon a theme which does not represent
at least some matured thought. "^
Deciding on the Subject Matter
Even when your theme has been chosen for you by
someone else, there remains to you a considerable field
for choice of subject matter. The same considerations,
in fact, that would govern you in choosing a theme must
guide in the selection of the material. Ask yourself — or
someone else — such questions as these:
^How to Attract and Hold an Audience, J. Berg Esenwein.
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 20$
What is the precise nature of the occasion? How large
an audience may be expected? From what walks of life
do they come? What is their probable attitude toward
the theme? Who else will speak? Do I speak first, last,
or where, on the program? What are the other speakers
going to talk about? What is the nature of the audi-
torium? Is there a desk? Could the subject be more
effectively handled if somewhat modified? Precisely
how much time am I to fill?
It is evident that many speech-misfits of subject,
speaker, occasion and place are due to failure to ask just
such pertinent questions. What should be said, by whoniy
and in what circumstances, constitute ninety per cent of
efficiency in public address. No matter who asks you,
refuse to be a square peg in a round hole.
Questions of Proportion '
Proportion in a speech is attained by a nice adjustment
of time. How fully you may treat your subject it is not
always for you to say. Let ten minutes mean neither
nine nor eleven — though better nine than eleven, at all
events. You wouldn't steal a man's watch; no more
should you steal the time of the succeeding speaker, or
that of the audience. There is no need to overstep time-
limits if you make your preparation adequate and divide
your subject so as to give each thought its due proportion
of attention — and no more. Blessed is the man that
maketh short speeches, for he shall be invited to speak
again.
Another matter of prime importance is, what part of
206 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
your address demands the most emphasis. This once
decided, you will know where to place that pivotal section
so as to give it the greatest strategic value, and what
degree of preparation must be given to that central thought
so that the vital part may not be submerged by non-
essentials. Many a speaker has awakened to find that he
has burnt up eight minutes of a ten-minute speech in
merely getting up steam. That is like spending eighty per
cent of your building-money on the vestibule of the house.
The same sense of proportion must tell you to stop
precisely when you are through — and it is to be hoped
that you will discover the arrival of that period before
your audience does.
Tapping Original Sources
The surest way to give life to speech-material is to
gather your facts at first hand. Your words come with
the weight of authority when you can say, "I have
examined the employment rolls of every mill in this dis-
trict and find that thirty-two per cent of the children em-
ployed are under the legal age." No citation of authorities
can equal that. You must adopt the methods of the
reporter and find out the facts underlying your argument
or appeal. To do so may prove laborious, but it should
not be irksome, for the great world of fact teems with
interest, and over and above all is the sense of power that
will come to you from original investigation. To see and
feel the facts you are discussing will react upon you much
more powerfully than if you were to secure the facts at
second hand.
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 207
Live an active life among people who are doing worth-
while things, keep eyes and ears and mind and heart open
to absorb truth, and then tell of the things you know, as
if you know them. The world will listen, for the world
loves nothing so much as real life.
How to Use a Library
Unsuspected treasures lie in the smallest library. Even
when the owner has read every last page of his books it is
only in rare instances that he has full indexes to all of them,
either in his mind or on paper, so as to make available the
vast number of varied subjects touched upon or treated
in volumes whose titles would never suggest such topics.
For this reason it is a good thing to take an odd hour
now and then to browse. Take down one volume after
another and look over its table of contents and its index.
(It is a reproach to any author of a serious book not to
have provided a full index, with cross references.) Then
glance over the pages, making notes, mental or physical,
of material that looks interesting and usable. Most
Ubraries contain volumes that the owner is "going to read
some day." A familiarity with even the contents of such
books on your own shelves will enable you to refer to them
when you want help. Writings read long ago should be
treated in the same way — in every chapter some surprise
lurks to delight you.
In looking up a subject do not be discouraged if you do
not find it indexed or outlined in the table of contents —
you are pretty sure to discover some material under a
related title.
2o8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Suppose you set to work somewhat in this way to
gather references on "Thinking:" First you look over
your book titles, and there is Schaeffer's "Thinking and
Learning to Think." Near it is Kramer's "Talks to
Students on the Art of Study" — that seems likely to pro-
vide some material, and it does. Naturally you think
next of your book on psychology, and there is help there.
If you have a volume on the human intellect you will have
already turned to it. Suddenly you remember your
encyclopedia and your dictionary of quotations — and
now material fairly rains upon you; the problem is what
not to use. In the encyclopedia you turn to every reference
that includes or touches or even suggests "thinking;"
and in the dictionary of quotations you do the same. The
latter volume you find peculiarly helpful because it sug-
gests several volumes to you that are on your own shelves
— ^you never would have thought to look in them for refer-
ences on this subject. Even fiction will supply help, but
especially books of essays and biography. Be aware of
your own resources.
To make a general index to your library does away with
the necessity for indexing individual volumes that are
not already indexed.
To begin with, keep a note-book by you; or small cards
and paper cuttings in your pocket and on your desk will
serve as well. The same note-book that records the im-
pressions of your own experiences and thoughts will be
enriched by the ideas of others.
To be sure, this note-book habit means labor, but
remember that more speeches have been spoiled by half-
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 209
hearted preparation than by lack of talent. Laziness is
an own-brother to Over-confidence, and both are your
inveterate enemies, though they pretend to be soothing
friends.
Conserve your material by indexing every good idea
on cards, thus:
SociaUsTrv
Gru^jnj2M.0Jr S., 6rur. lb
On the card illustrated above, clippings are indexed by
giving the number of the envelope in which they are filed.
The envelopes may be of any size desired and kept in any
convenient receptable. On the foregoing example, "Pro-
gress of S., Envelope i6," will represent a clipping, filed
in Envelope i6, which is, of course, numbered arbitrarily.
The fractions refer to books in your Ubrary — the numera-
tor being the book-number, the denominator referring to
the page. Thus, "S. a fallacy, 2^," refers to page 210 of
volume 96 in your library. By some arbitrary sign — say
red ink — you may even index a reference in a public
library book.
If you preserve your magazines, important articles may
be indexed by month and year. An entire volume on a
2IO THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
subject may be indicated like the imaginary book by
"Forbes." If you clip the articles, it is better to index
them according to the envelope system.
Your own writings and notes may be filed in envelopes
with the clippings or in a separate series.
Another good indexing system combines the library
index with the "scrap," or clipping, system by making the
outside of the envelope serve the same purpose as the
card for the indexing of books, magazines, clippings and
manuscripts, the latter two classes of material being
enclosed in the envelopes that index them, and all filed
alphabetically.
When your cards accumulate so as to make ready ref-
erence difficult under a single alphabet, you may subdivide
each letter by subordinate guide cards marked by the
vowels. A, E, I, O, U. Thus, "Antiquities" would be
filed|under i in A, because A begins the word, and the
second letter, n, comes after the vowel i in the alphabet,
but before^o. In the same manner, "Beecher" would be
filed under e in B; and "Hydrogen" would come under
u in H.
Outlining the Address
No one can advise you how to prepare the notes for an
address. Some speakers get the best results while walking
out and ruminating, jotting down notes as they pause in
their walk. Others never put pen to paper until the whole
speech has been thought out. The great majority, how-
ever, will take notes, classify their notes, write a hasty
first draft, and then revise the speech. Try each of these
methods and choose the one that is best— /or you. Do
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 2H
not allow any man to force you to work in his way; but
do not neglect to consider his way, for it may be better
than your own.
For those who make notes and with their aid write out
the speech, these suggestions may prove helpful:
After having read and thought enough, classify your
notes by setting down the big, central thoughts of your
material on separate cards or slips of paper. These will
stand in the same relation to your subject as chapters do
to a book.
Then arrange these main ideas or heads in such an order
that they will lead effectively to the result you have in
mind, so that the speech may rise in argument, in interest,
in power, by piling one fact or appeal upon another until
the climax — the highest point of influence on your audi-
ence— has been reached.
Next group all your ideas, facts, anecdotes, and illus-
trations under the foregoing main heads, each where it
naturally belongs.
You now have a skeleton or outline of your address
that in its polished form might serve either as the brief, or
manuscript notes, for the speech or as the guide-outhne
which you will expand into the written address, if written
it is to be.
Imagine each of the main ideas in the brief on page 213
as being separate; then picture your mind as sorting them
out and placing them in order; finally, conceive of how
you would fill in the facts and examples under each head,
giving special prominence to those you wish to emphasize
and subduing those of less moment. In the end, you have
212 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the outline complete. The simplest form of outline — not
very suitable for use on the platform, however — is the
following:
WHY PROSPERITY IS COMING
What prosperity means. — ^The real tests of prosperity. —
Its basis in the soil. — American agricultural progress. —
New interest in farming. — Enormous value of our agri-
cultural products. — Reciprocal effect on trade. — Foreign
countries affected. — Effects of our new internal economy —
the regulation of banking and "big business" — on pros-
perity.— Effects of our revised attitude toward foreign
markets, including our merchant marine. — Summary.
Obviously, this very simple outline is capable of con-
siderable expansion under each head by the addition of
facts, arguments, inferences and examples.
Here is an outUne arranged with more regard for
argument:
FOREIGN IMMIGRATION SHOULD BE
RESTRICTED!
I. Fact AS Cause: Many immigrants are practically
paupers. (Proofs involving statistics or state-
ments of authorities.)
II. Fact as Effect: They sooner or later fill our
alms-houses and become public charges. (Proofs
involving statistics or statements of authorities.)
^Adapted from Composition-Rhetoric, Soott and Denny, p. 241.
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 213
III. Fact as Cause: Some of them are criminals.
(Examples of recent cases.)
IV. Fact as Effect: They reenforce the criminal
classes. (Effects on our civic life.)
V. Fact as Cause: Many of them know nothing of
the duties of free citizenship. (Examples.)
VI. Fact as Effect: Such immigrants recruit the
worst element in our politics. (Proofs.)
A more highly ordered grouping of topics and sub-
topics is shown in the following:
OURS A CHRISTIAN NATION
I. Introduction: Why the subject is timely. In-
fluences operative against this contention today.
II. Christianity Presided Over the Early His-
tory OF America.
1. First practical discovery by a Christian ex-
plorer. Columbus worshiped God on the new
soil.
2. The Cavaliers.
3. The French Catholic settlers.
4. The Huguenots.
5. The Puritans.
III. The Birth of Our Nation was Under Chris-
tian Auspices.
1. Christian character of Washington.
2. Other Christian patriots.
3. The Church in our Revolutionary struggle.
Muhlenberg.
214 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
IV. Our Later History has only Emphasized Our
National Attitude. Examples of dealings
with foreign nations show Christian magna-
nimity. Returning the Chinese Indemnity;
fostering the Red Cross; attitude toward Belgium.
V. Our Governmental Forms and Many of Our
Laws are of a Christian Temper.
1. The use of the Bible in public ways, oaths, etc.
2. The Bible in our schools.
3. Christian chaplains minister to our law-
making bodies, to our army, and to our navy.
4. The Christian Sabbath is oflficially and gen-
erally recognized.
5. The Christian family and the Christian system
of morality are at the basis of our laws.
VI. The Life of the People Testifies of the
Power of Christianity. Charities, education,
etc., have Christian tone.
VII. Other Nations Regard us as a Christian
People.
VIII. Conclusion: The attitude which may reasona-
bly be expected of all good citizens toward ques-
tions touching the preservation of our standing as
a Christian nation.
Writing and Revision
After the outline has been perfected comes the time to
write the speech, if write it you must. Then, whatever you
do, write it at white heat, with not too much thought of
anything but the strong, appealing expression of your ideas.
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 21 ^
The final stage is the paring down, the re-vision — the
seeing again, as the word implies — when all the parts of
the speech must be impartially scrutinized for clearness,
precision, force, effectiveness, suitability, proportion,
logical climax; and in all this you must imagine yourself to
be before your audience, for a speech is not an essay and
what will convince and arouse in the one will not prevail
in the other.
The Title
Often last of all will come that which in a sense is first
of all — the title, the name by which the speech is known.
Sometimes it will be the simple theme of the address, as
"The New Americanism," by Henry Watterson; or it
may be a bit of symbolism typifying the spirit of the
address, as "Acres of Diamonds," by Russell H. Conwell;
or it may be a fine phrase taken from the body of the
address, as "Pass Prosperity Around," by Albert J.
Beveridge. All in all, from whatever motive it be chosen,
let the title be fresh, short, suited to the subject, and likely
to excite interest.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Define (a) introduction; (b) climax; (c) peroration.
2. If a thirty-minute speech would require three hours
for specific preparation, would you expect to be able to
do equal justice to a speech one-third as long in one-third
the time for preparation? Give reasons.
3. Relate briefly any personal experience you may
have had in conserving time for reading and thought.
4. In the manner of a reporter or investigator, go out
2l6 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
and get first-hand information on some subject of interest
to the public. Arrange the results of your research in the
form of an outline, or brief.
5. From a private or a public library gather enough
authoritative material on one of the following questions
to build an outline for a twenty-minute address. Take
one definite side of the question, (a) "The Housing of
the Poor;" (b) "The Commission Form of Government
for Cities as a Remedy for Political Graft;" (c) "The
Test of Woman's Suffrage in the West;" (d) "Present
Trends of Public Taste in Reading;" (e) "Municipal
Art;" (/■) "Is the Theatre Becoming more Elevated in
Tone?" (g) "The Effects of the Magazine on Litera-
ture;" (h) "Does Modern Life Destroy Ideals?" (i) "Is
Competition 'the Life of Trade?' " (;) "Baseball is too
Absorbing to be a Wholesome National Game;" (k)
"Summer Baseball and Amateur Standing;" (/) "Does
College Training Unfit a Woman for Domestic Life?"
(tn) "Does Woman's Competition with Man in Business
Dull the Spirit of Chivalry?" («) "Are Elective Studies
Smted to High School Courses? " (0) "Does the Modern
College Prepare Men for Preeminent Leadership?" (p)
"The Y. M. C. A. in Its Relation to the Labor Problem;"
(q) "Public Speaking as Training in Citizenship."
6. Construct the outline, examining it carefully for
interest, convincing character, proportion, and climax
of arrangement.
Note: — This exercise should be repeated until the
student shows facility in synthetic arrangement.
7. Deliver the address, if possible before an audience.
SUBJECT AND PREPARATION 2^^
8. Make a three-hundred word report on the results,
as best you are able to estimate them.
9. Tell something of the benefits of using a periodical
(or cxunulative) index.
10. Give a number of quotations, suitable for a
speaker's use, that you have memorized in off moments.
11. In the manner^of the outline on page 213, analyze
the address on pages 78-79, "The History of Liberty."
12. Give an outline analysis, from notes or memory, of
an address or sermon to which you have listened for this
purpose.
13. Criticise the address from a structural point of
view.
14. Invent titles for|any five of the themes in Exer-
cise 5.
15. Criticise the titles of any five chapters of this book,
suggesting better ones.
16. Criticise the title of any lecture or address of which
you know.
CHAPTER XIX
INFLUENCING BY EXPOSITION
Speak not at all, in any wise, till you have somewhat to speak;
care not for the reward of your speaking, but simply and with
undivided mind for the truth of your speaking.
— Thomas Carlyle, Essay on Biography.
A complete discussion of the rhetorical structure of
public speeches requires a fuller treatise than can be un-
dertaken in a work of this nature, yet in this chapter, and
in the succeeding ones on ''Description," "Narration,"
"Argument," and "Pleading," the underlying principles
are given and explained as fully as need be for a working
knowledge, and adequate book references are given for
those who would perfect themselves in rhetorical art.
The Nature of Exposition
In the word "expose" — to lay bare, to uncover, to show
the true inwardness of — we see the foundation-idea of
rN. "Exposition." It is the clear and precise setting forth of
— ^hat the subject really is — it is explanation.
Exposition does not draw a picture, for that would be
description. To tell in exact terms what the automobile
is, to name its characteristic parts and explain their
workings, would be exposition; so would an explanation
of the nature of "fear." But to create a mental image of
a particular automobile, with its glistening body, grace-
INFLUENCING BY EXPOSITION 219
fill lines, and great speed, would be description; and so
would a picturing of fear acting on the emotions of a child
at night. Exposition and description often intermingle
and overiap, but fundamentally they are distinct. Their\
differences will be touched upon again in the chapter on)
"Description."
Exposition furthermore does not include an account of
how events happened — that is narration. When Peary
lectured on his polar discoveries he explained the instru-
ments used for determining latitude and longitude — that
was exposition. In picturing his equipment he used
description. In telling of his adventures day by day he
employed narration. In supporting some of his conten-
tions he used argument. Yet he mingled all these forms
throughout the lecture.
Neither does exposition deal with reasons and infer- -
ences — that is the field of argument. A series of connected
statements intended to convince a prospective buyer that
one automobile is better than another, or proofs that
the appeal to fear is a wrong method of discipline, would
not be exposition. The plain facts as set forth in exposi-
tory speaking or writing are nearly always the basis of
argument, yet the processes are not one. True, the state-
ment of a single significant fact without the addition of
one other word may be convincing, but a moment's
thought will show that the inference, which completes a
chain of reasoning, is made in the mind of the hearer and
presupposes other facts held in consideration.^
In like manner, it is obvious that the field of persuasion
^Argumentation will be outlined fully in a subsequent chapter.
220 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
is not open to exposition, for exposition is entirely
an intellectual process, with no emotional element.
The Importance of Exposition
The importance of exposition in public speech is pre- fr
cisely the importance of setting forth a matter so plainly ly
that it cannot be misunderstood. /^
"To master the process of exposition is to become a clear
thinker. * I know, when you do not ask me,'^ replied a gentleman
upon being requested to define a highly complex idea. Now some
large concepts defy explicit definition; but no mind should take
refuge behind such exceptions, for where definition fails, other
forms succeed. Sometimes we feel confident that we have per-
fect mastery of an idea, but when the time comes to express it,
the clearness becomes a haze. Exposition, then, is the test of
clear understanding. To speak effectively you must be able to
see your subject clearly and comprehensively, and to make your
audience see it as you do."'
There are pitfalls on both sides of this path. To explain
too little will leave your audience in doubt as to what you
mean. It is useless to argue a question if it is not per-
fectly clear just what is meant by the question. Have
you never come to a blind lane in conversation by find-
ing that you were talking of one aspect of a matter while
your friend was thinking of another? If two do not agree
in their definitions of a Musician, it is useless to dispute
over a certain man's right to claim the title.
On the other side of the path lies the abyss of tediously
explaining too much. That offends because it impresses
the hearers that you either do not respect their intelligence
^The Working Principals of Rhetoric, J. F. Genung
'How to Attract and Hold an Audience. J. Berg Eienwein.
INFLUENCING BY EXPOSITION 221
or are trying to blow a breeze into a tornado. Carefully
estimate the probable knowledge of your audience, both
in general and of the particular point you are explaining.
In trying to simplify, it is fatal to "sillify." To explain
more than is needed for the purposes of your argument or
appeal is to waste energy all around. In your efforts to be
explicit do not press exposition to the extent of dulness —
the confines are not far distant and you may arrive before
you know it.
Some Purposes of Exposition — -
From what has been said it ought to be clear that,
primarily, exposition weaves a cord of understanding be-
tween you and your audience. It lays, furthermore, a
foundation of fact on which to build later statements,
arguments, and appeals. In scientific^ and purely "in-
formation" speeches exposition may exist by itself and
for itself, as in a lecture on biology, or on psychology;
but in the vast majority of cases it is used to accompany
and prepare the way for the other forms of discourse.
Clearness, precision, accuracy, unity, truth, and neces-
sity— these must be the constant standards by which you
test the efficiency of your expositions, and, indeed, that
of every explanatory statement. This dictum should be
written on your brain in letters most plain. And let this
apply not alone to the purposes of exposition but in equal
measure to your use of the
Methods of Exposition
The various ways along which a speaker may proceed
in exposition are likely to touch each other now and then,
222 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
and even when they do not meet and actually overlap,
they run so nearly parallel that the roads are sometimes
distinct rather in theory than in any more practical
respect.
(^ Definition, the primary expository method, is a state-
ment of precise limits.^ Obviously, here the greatest care
must be exercised that the terms of definition should not
themselves demand too much definition; that the lan-
guage should be concise and clear; and that the definition
should neither exclude nor include too much. The fol-
lowing is a simple example:
To expound is to set forth the nature, the significance, the
characteristics, and the bearing of an idea or a group of ideas.
— Arlo Bates, Talks on Writing English.
Contrast and Antithesis are often used effectively to
amplify definition, as in this sentence, which immediately
follows the above-cited definition:
Exposition therefore differs from Description in that it deals
directly with the meaning or intent of its subject instead of with
its appearance.
This antithesis forms an expansion of the definition,
and as such it might have been still further extended. In
fact, this is a frequent practise in pubUc speech, where the
minds of the hearers often ask for reiteration and expanded
statement to help them grasp a subject in its several
aspects. This is the very heart of exposition — to amplify
and clarify all the terms by which a matter is defined.
*0n the various types of definition see any college manual of Rhetoric.
INFLUENCING BY EXPOSITION 223
Example is another method of amplifying a definition
or of expounding an idea more fully. The following sen-
tences immediately succeed Mr. Bates's definition and
contrast just quoted:
A good deal which we are accustomed inexactly to call de-
scription is really exposition. Suppose that your small boy
wishes to know how an engine works, and should say: "Please
describe the steam-engine to me." If you insist on taking his
words literally — and are willing to run the risk of his indigna-
tion at being wilfully misunderstood — you will to the best of
your ability picture to him this familiarly wonderful machine.
If you explain it to him, you are not describing but expounding it.
The chief value of example is that it makes clear the
unknown by referring the mind to the known. Readiness
of mind to make illuminating, apt comparisons for the
sake of clearness is one of the speaker's chief resources on
the platform — it is the greatest of all teaching gifts. It
is a gifi, moreover, that responds to cultivation. Read
the three extracts from Arlo Bates as their author de-
livered them, as one passage, and see how they melt into
one, each part supplementing the other most helpfully.
,' Analogy, which calls attention to similar relationships
in objects not otherwise similar, is one of the most useful,
methods of exposition. The following striking specimen
is from Beecher's Liverpool speech:
A savage is a man of one story, and that one story a cellar.
When a man begins to be civilized he raises another story. When
you christianize and civilize the man, you put story upon story,
for you develop faculty after faculty; and you have to supply
every story with your productions.
224 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Discarding is a less common form of platform explana-
tion. It consists in clearing away associated ideas so that
the attention may be centered on the main thought to be
discussed. Really, it is a negative factor in exposition,
though a most important one, for it is fundamental to
the consideration of an intricately related matter that
subordinate and side questions should be set aside in order
to bring out the main issue. Here is an example of the
method:
I cannot allow myself to be led aside from the only issue before
this jury. It is not pertinent to consider that this prisoner is
the husband of a heartbroken woman and that his babes will go
through the world under the shadow of the law's extremest
penalty worked upon their father. We must forget the venerable
father and the mother whom Heaven in pity took before she
learned of her son's disgrace. What have these matters of heart,
what have the blenched faces of his friends, what have the
prisoner's long and honorable career to say before this bar
when you are sworn to weigh only the direct evidence before you?
The one and only question for you to decide on the evidence is
whether this man did with revengeful intent commit the murder
that every impartial witness has solemnly laid at his door.
/ Classification assigns a subject to its class. By an
[allowable extension of the definition it may be said to
>assigA it also to its order, genus, and species. Classifica-
tion is useful in public speech in narrowing the issue to a
desired phase. It is equally valuable for showing a thing
in its relation to other things, or in correlation. Classifica-
tion is closely akin to Definition and Division.
This question of the liquor traffic, sirs, takes its place beside
the grave moral issues of all times. Whatever be its economic
INFLUENCING BY EXPOSITION 2 25
significance — and who is there to question it — whatever vital
bearing it has upon our political system — and is there one who
will deny it? — the question of the licensed saloon must quickly
be settled as the world in its advancement has settled the ques-
tions of constitutional government for the masses, of the opium
traffic, of the serf, and of the slave — not as matters of economic
and political expediency but as questions of right and wrong.
Analysis separates a subject into its essential parts.
This it may do by various principles; for example,
analysis may follow the order of time (geologic eras),
order of place (geographic facts), logical order (a sermon
outline), order of increasing interest, or procession to
a climax (a lecture on 20th century poets); and so on.
A classic example of analytical exposition is the following:
In philosophy the contemplations of man do either penetrate
unto God, or are circumferred to nature, or are reflected or
reverted upon himself. Out of which several inquiries there do
arise three knowledges: divine philosophy, natural philosophy, and
human philosophy or humanity. For all things are marked and
stamped with this triple character, of the power of God, the
difference of nature, and the use of man.
— Lord Bacon, The Advancement of Learning.'^
Division differs only from analysis in that analysis fol-
lows the inherent divisions of a subject, as illustrated in
the foregoing passage, while division arbitrarily separates
the subject for convenience of treatment, as in the follow-
ing none- too-logical example:
For civil history, it is of three kinds; not unfitly to be com-
pared with the three kinds of pictures or images. For of pictures
or images, we see some are unfinished, some are perfect, and some
are defaced. So of histories we may find three kinds, memorials,
iQuoted in The Working Principles of Rhetoric, J. F. Genung.
336 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
perfect' "histories, and antiquities; for memorials are history un-
finished, or the first or rough drafts of history; and antiquities
are history defaced, or some remnants of history which have
casually escaped the shipwreck of time.
/ — Lord Bacon, The Advancement of Learning,^
I Generalization states a broad principle, or a general
truth, derived from examination of a considerable num-
j ber of individual facts. This synthetic exposition is not
the same as argumentative generalization, which supports
a general contention by citing instances in proof.
Observe how Holmes begins with one fact, and by adding
another and another reaches a complete whole. This is
one of the most effective devices in the public speaker's
repertory.
Take a hollow cylinder, the bottom closed while the top remains
open, and pour in water to the height of a few inches. Next
cover the water with a flat plate or piston, which fits the interior
of the cylinder perfectly; then apply heat to the water, and we
shall witness the following phenomena. After the lapse of some
minutes the water will begin to boil, and the steam accumulating
at the upper surface will make room for itself by raising the piston
slightly. As the boiling continues, more and more steam will be
formed, ♦and raise the piston higher and higher, till all the water
is boiled away, and nothing but steam is left in the cylinder.
Now this machine, consisting of cylinder, piston, water, and fire,
is the steam-engine in its most elementary form. For a steam-
engine may be defined as an apparatus for doing work by means
of heat applied to water; and since raising such a weight as the
piston is a form of doing work, this apparatus, clumsy and incon-
venient though it may be, answers the definition precisely.'
Reference to Experience is one of the most vital princi-
ples in exposition — as in every other form of discourse.
^Quoted in The Working Principles of Rhetoric, J. F. Genung.
H3. C. v. Holmes, quoted in Specimens of Exposition, H. Lamont.
INFLUENCING BY EXPOSITION 227
''Reference to experience, as here used, means reference
to the known. The known is that which the listener has
seen, heard, read, felt, believed or done, and which still
exists in his consciousness — his stock of knowledge. It
embraces all those thoughts, feelings and happenings
which are to him real. Reference to Experience, then,
means coming into the listener's life.^
The vast restilts obtained by science are won by no mystical
faculties, by no mental processes, other than those which are
practised by every one of us in the humblest and meanest afifairs
of life. A detective policeman discovers a burglar from the
marks made by his shoe, by a mental process identical with that
by which Cuvier restored the extinct animals of Montmartre
from fragments of their bones. Nor does that process of indue-"
tion and deduction by which a lady, finding a stain of a particular
kind upon her dress, concludes that somebody has upset the ink-
stand thereon, differ in any way from that by which Adams and
Leverrier discovered a new planet. The man of science, in fact,
simply uses with scrupulous exactness the methods which we all
habitually, and at every moment, use carelessly.
— Thomas Henry Huxley, Lay Sermons,
Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, that are
written down old with all the characters of age? Have you not
a moist eye? a dry hand? a yellow cheek? a white beard? a de-
creasing leg? an increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your
wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and every part
about you blasted with antiquity? and will you yet call yourself
young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!
— Shakespeare, The Merry Wives of Windsor.
Finally, in preparing expository material ask yourself
these questions regarding your subject:
^Effective Speaking, Arthur Edward Phillips. This work covers the prepa-
ration of public speech in a very helpful way.
228 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
^ What is it, and what is it not?
What is it like, and unlike?
What are its causes, and effects?
How shall it be divided?
.With what subjects is it correlated?
^What experiences does it recall?
at examples illustrate it?
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. What would be the effect of adhering to any one of
the forms of discourse in a public address?
2. Have you ever heard such an address?
3. Invent a series of examples illustrative of the dis-
tinctions made on pages 232 and 233.
4. Make a list of ten subjects that might be treated
largely, if not entirely, by exposition.
5. Name the six standards by which expository
writing should be tried.
6. Define any one of the following: (a) storage battery;
(b) "arfree hand;" (c) sail boat; (d) "The Big Stick;"
(e) nonsense; (/) "a good sport;" (g) short-story; (h)
novel; (i) newspaper; (J) politician; (k) jealousy; (/)
truth; (m) matinee girl; (n) college honor system;
((?) modish; (p) slum; (q) settlement work; (r) forensic.
7. Amplify the definition by antithesis.
8. Invent two examples to illustrate the definition
(question 6).
9. Invent two analogies for the same subject (ques-
d;ion 6).
INFLUENCING BY EXPOSITION 229
10. Make a short speech based on one of the following:
(a) wages and salary; (b) master and man; (c) war and
peace; (d) home and the boarding house; (e) struggle
and victory; (/) ignorance and ambition.
11. Make a ten-minute speech on any of the topics \
named in question 6, using all the methods of exposition \
already named. x^
12. Explain what is meant by discarding topics col-
lateral and subordinate to a subject.
13. Rewrite the jury-speech on page 224.
14. Define correlation.
15. Write an example of "classification," on any
political, social, economic, or moral issue of the day.
16. Make a brief analytical statement of Henry W.
Grady's "The Race Problem," page 36.
17. By what analytical principle did you proceed?
(See page 225.)
18. Write a short, carefully generalized speech fro:
a large amount of data on one of the following subjects:
(a) The servant girl problem; (b) cats; (c) the baseball
craze; (d) reform administrations; (e) sewing societies;
(/) coeducation; (g) the traveling salesman.
19. Observe this passage from Newton's "Effective
Speaking:"
"That man is a cynic. He sees goodness nowhere. He sneers
at virtue, sneers at love; to him the maiden plighting her troth
is an artful schemer, and he sees even in the mother's kiss nothing
but an empty conventionality."
Write, commit and deliver two similar passages based
onyour choice from this list: (a) "the egotist;" (6) "the
230 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
sensualist;" (c) "the hypocrite;" (d) "the timid man;"
(e) "the joker;" (/)"the flirt;" (g) "the ungrateful
woman;" (h) "the mournful man." In both cases use
the principle of "Reference to Experience."
20. Write a passage on any of the foregoing characters
in imitation of the style of Shakespeare's characteriza-
tion of Sir John Falstaff, page 227.
CHAPTER XX
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION
The groves of Eden vanish'd now so long,
Live in description, and look green in song.
— Alexander Pope, Windsor Forest.
The moment our discourse rises above the ground-line of
familiar facts, and is inflamed with passion or exalted thought,
it clothes itself in images. A man conversing in earnest, if he
watch his intellectual processes, will find that always a material
image, more or less luminous, arises in his mind, contemporane-
ous with every thought, which furnishes the vestment of the
thought. . . . This imagery is spontaneous. It is the
blending of experience with the present action of the mind. It
is proper creation. — Ralph Waldo Emerson, Nature.
Like other valuable resources in public speaking, de-
scription loses its power when carried to an extreme.
Over-ornamentation makes the subject ridiculous. A
dust-cloth is a very useful thing, but why embroider it?
Whether description shall be restrained within its proper
and important limits, or be encouraged to run riot, is the
personal choice that comes before every speaker, for
man's earliest literary tendency is to depict.
-^, The Nature of Description
s^^To describe is to call up a picture in the mind of the
hearer. "In talking of description we naturally speak of
portraying, delineating, coloring, and all the devices of
the picture painter. To describe is to visualize, hence we
232 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
7 must look at description as a pictorial process, whether
V-the writer deals with material or with spiritual objects."^
If you were asked to describe the rapid-fire gun you
might go about it in either of two ways: give a cold techni-
cal account of its mechanism, in whole and in detail, or
else describe it as a terrible engine of slaughter, dweUing
upon its effects rather than upon its structure.
The former of these processes is exposition, the latter
is true description. Exposition deals more with the gen-
eralf while description must deal with the particular.
Exposition elucidates ideas, description treats of things.
Exposition deals with the abstract, description with the
concrete. Exposition is concerned with the internal, de-
scription with the external. Exposition is enumerative,
description literary. Exposition is intellectual, description
sensory. Exposition is impersonal, description personal.
If description is a visuaUzing process for the hearer, it
is first of all such for the speaker — he cannot describe
what he has never seen, either physically or in fancy. It is
this personal quality — this question of the personal eye
which sees the things later to be described — that makes
description so interesting in public speech. Given a
speaker of personality, and we are interested in his per-
sonal view — his view adds to the natural interest of the
scene, and may even be the sole source of that interest to
his auditors.
The seeing eye has been praised in an earlier chapter
(on "Subject and Preparation") and the imagination will
be treated in a subsequent one (on "Riding the Winged
^Writing the Short-Story, J. Berg Esenwein.
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION
233
Horse"), but here we must consider the picturing mind:
the mind that forms the double habit of seeing things
clearly — ^for we see more with the mind than we do with
the physical eye — and then of re-imaging these things for
the purpose of getting them before the minds' eyes of the
hearers. No habit is more useful than that of visualizing
clearly the object, the scene, the situation, the action, the
person, about to be described. Unless that primary
process is carried out clearly, the picture will be blurred
for the hearer-beholder.
In a work of this nature we are concerned with the
rhetorical analysis of description, and with its methods,
only so far as may be needed for the practical purposes of
the speaker.^ The following grouping, therefore, will not
be regarded as complete, nor will it here be necessary to
add more than a word of explanation :
Objects
\ Still
( In motion
Scenes
( Still
f Including action
description
for
j Preceding change
Situations
^ During change
Public
Speakers
Actions
( After change
\ Mental
/Physical
Persons
( Internal
/ External
iFor fuller treatment of Description see Genung's Working Principles of
Rhetoric, Albright's Descriptive Writing, Bates' Talks on Writing English, first
and second series, and any advanced rhetoric.
234 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Some of the foregoing processes will overlap, in certain
instances, and all are more likely to be found in combina-
tion than singly.
When description is intended solely to give accurate
information — as to delineate the appearance, not the
technical construction, of the latest Zeppelin airship — it
is called "scientific description," and is akin to exposition.
When it is intended to present a free picture for the pur-
pose of making a vivid impression, it is called "artistic
description." With both of these the public speaker has
to deal, but more frequently with the latter form. Rhetori-
cians make still further distinctions.
Methods of Description
In public speaking, description should be mainly by
suggestion^ not only because suggestive description is so
much more compact and time-saving but because it is so
vivid. Suggestive expressions connote more than they
literally say — they suggest ideas and pictures to the mind
of tlTe hearer which supplement the direct words of the
speaker. When Dickens, in his "Christmas Carol," says:
"In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile,"
our minds complete the picture so deftly begun — a much
more effective process than that of a minutely detailed
description because it leaves a unified, vivid impression,
and that is what we need. Here is a present-day bit of
suggestion: "General Trinkle was a gnarly oak of a man
— rough, solid, and safe; you always knew where to find
him." Dickens presents Miss Peecher as: "A little pin-
cushion, a little housewife, a little book, a little work-box,
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION 235
a little set of tables and weights and measures, and a little
woman all in one." In his "Knickerbocker's" "History
of New York," Irving portrays Wouter van Twiller as
"a robustious beer-barrel, standing on skids."
Whatever forms of description you neglect, be sure to
master the art of suggestion.
--description may be by simple hint. Lowell notes a happy
instance of this sort of picturing by intimation when he
says of Chaucer: "Sometimes he describes amply by the
merest hint, as where the Friar, before setting himself
down, drives away the cat. We know without need of
more words that he has chosen the snuggest corner."
., Description may depict a thing by its effects. "When the
spectator's eye is dazzled, and he shades it," says Mozley
in his "Essays," "we form the idea of a splendid object;
when his face turns pale, of a horrible one; from his quick
wonder and admiration we form the idea of great beauty;
from his silent awe, of great majesty."
Brief description may be by epithet. "Blue-eyed,"
"white-armed," "laughter-loving," are now conventional
compounds, but they were fresh enough when Homer first
conjoined them. The centuries have not yet improved
upon "Wheels round, brazen, eight-spoked," or "Shields
smooth, beautiful, brazen, well-hammered." Observe
the effective use of epithet in Will Levington Comfort's
"The Fighting Death," when he speaks of soldiers
in a Philippine skirmish as being "leeched against a
rock."
Description uses figures of speech. Any advanced
rhetoric will discuss their forms and give examples for
236 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
guidance.^ This matter is most important, be assured.
A brilliant yet carefully restrained figurative style, a
style marked by brief, pungent, witty, and humorous
comparisons and characterizations, is a wonderful re-
source for all kinds of platform work.
^^^ Description may he direct. This statement is plain
enough without exposition. Use your own judgment as
to whether in picturing you had better proceed from a
general view to the details, or first give the details and
thus build up the general picture, but by all means be
BRIEF.
Note the vivid compactness of these delineations from
Washington Irving's "Knickerbocker:"
He was a short, square, brawny old gentleman, with a double
chin, a mastiff mouth, and a broad copper nose, which was sup-
posed in those days to have acquired its fiery hue from the con-
stant neighborhood of his tobacco pipe.
Hejtvas exactly five feet six inches in height, and six feet five
inches in circumference. His head was a perfect sphere, and of
such stupendous dimensions, that Dame Nature, with all her
sex's ingenuity, would have been puzzled to construct a neck
capable of supporting it; wherefore she wisely declined the at-
tempt, and settled it firmly on the top of his backbone, just
between the shoulders. His body was of an oblong form, par-
ticularly capacious at bottom; which was wisely ordered by
Providence, seeing that he was a man of sedentary habits, and
very averse to the idle labor of walking.
The foregoing is too long for the platform, but it is so
good-humored, so full of delightful exaggeration, that it
^See also The Art of Versification, J. Berg Esenwein and Mary Eleanor
Roberts, pp. 28-35; and Writing the Short-Story, J. Berg Esenwein, pp. 152-
162; 231-240.
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION 237
may well serve as a model of humorous character picturing,
for here one inevitably sees the inner man in the outer.
Direct description for platform use may be made vivid
by the sparing use of the "historical present." The fol-
lowing dramatic passage, accompanied by the most lively
action, has lingered in the mind for thirty years after
hearing Dr. T. De Witt Talmage lecture on "Big
Blunders." The crack of the bat sounds clear even today:
Get ready the bats and take your positions. Now, give us
the ball. Too low. Don't strike. Too high. Don't strike.
There it comes like lightning. Strike! Away it soars! Higher!
Higher! Run! Another base! Faster! Faster! Good! All
around at one stroke!
Observe the remarkable way in which the lecturer
fused speaker, audience, spectators, and players into one
excited, ecstatic whole — ^just as you have found yourself
starting forward in your seat at the delivery of the ball with
"three on and two down" in the ninth inning. Notice,
too, how — perhaps unconsciously — Talmage painted the
scene in Homer's characteristic style: not as having
already happened, but as happening before your eyes. .
If you have attended many travel talks you must have
been impressed by the painful extremes to which the
lecturers go — with a few notable exceptions, their lan-
guage is either over-ornate or crude. If you would learn
the power of words to make scenery, yes, even houses,
palpitate with poetry and human appeal, read Lafcadio
Hearn, Robert Louis Stevenson, Pierre Loti, and Edmondo
De Amicis.
238 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Blue-distant, a mountain of carven stone appeared before
them, — the Temple, lifting to heaven its wilderness of chiseled
pinnacles, flinging to the sky the golden spray of its decoration.
— Lafcadio Hearn, Chinese Ghosts.
The stars were clear,^colored, and jewel-like, but not frosty.
A faint silvery vapour stood for the Milky Way. All around me
the black fir-points stood upright and stock-still. By the white-
ness of the pack-saddle I could see Modestine walking round and
round at the length of her tether; I could hear her steadily
munching at the sward; but there was not another sound save
the indescribable quiet talk of the runnel over the stones.
— RoBERTjLouis Stevenson, Travels with a Donkey.
It was full autumn now, late autumn — with the nightfalls
gloomy, and alljthings growing dark early in the old cottage, and
all the Breton land looking sombre, too. The very days seemed
b\it twilight; immeasurable clouds, slowly passing, would sud-
denly bring darkness at broad noon. The wind moaned con-
stantly— it was like the sound of a great cathedral organ at a
distance, but playing profane airs, or despairing dirges; at other
times it would come close to the door, and lift up a howl like
wild beasts. — Pierre Loti, An Iceland Fisherman.
I see the great refectory,* where a battalion might have drilled;
I see the long tables, the five hundred heads bent above the
plates, the rapid motion of five hundred forks, of a thousand
hands, and sixteen thousand teeth; the swarm of servants
running here and there, called to, scolded, hurried, on every side
at once; I hear the clatter of dishes, the deafening noise, the
voices choked with food crying out: "Bread — bread!" and I
feel once more the formidable appetite, the herculean strength
of jaw, the exuberant life and spirits of those far-off days.'
— Edmondo De Amicis, College Friends.
Suggestions for the Use of Description
Decide, on beginning a description, what point of view
you wish your hearers to take. One cannot see either a
^In the Military College of Modena.
*This figure of speech is known as "Vision."
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION 239
mountain or a man on all sides at once. Establish a
view-point, and do not shift without giving notice.
Choose an attitude toward your subject — shall it be
idealized? caricatured? ridiculed? exaggerated? defended?
or described impartially?
Be sure of your mood, too, for it will color the subject
to be described. Melancholy will make a rose-garden
look gray.
Adopt an order in which you will proceed — do not shift
backward and forward from near to far, remote to close
in time, general to particular, large to small, important to
unimportant, concrete to abstract, physical to mental;
but follow your chosen order. Scattered and shifting
observations produce hazy impressions just as a moving
camera spoils the time-exposure.
Do not go into needless minutiae. Some details identify
a thing with its class, while other details differentiate it
from its class. Choose only the significant, suggestive
characteristics and bring those out with terse vividness.
Learn a lesson from the few strokes used by the poster
artist.
In determining what to describe and what merely to
name, seek to read the knowledge of your audience. The
difference to them between the unknown and the known
is a vital one also to you.
Relentlessly cut out all ideas and words not necessary
to produce the^effect you desire. Each element in a mental
picture either helps or hinders. Be sure they do not
hinder, for they cannot be passively present in any
discourse.
240 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Interruptions of the description to make side-remarks
are as powerful to destroy unity as are scattered descrip-
tive phrases. The only visual impression that can be
effective is one that is unified.
In describing, try to call up the emotions you felt when
first you saw the scene, and then try to reproduce those
emotions in your hearers. Description is primarily
emotional in its appeal; nothing can be more deadly dull
than a cold, unemotional outline, while nothing leaves a
warmer impression than a glowing, spirited description.
Give a swift and vivid general view at the close of the
portrayal. First and final impressions remain the longest.
The mind may be trained to take in the characteristic
points of a subject, so as to view in a single scene, action,
experience, or character, a unified impression of the whole.
To describe a thing as a whole you must first see it as a
whole. Master that art and you have mastered descrip-
tion to the last degree.
SELECTIONS FOR PRACTISE
THE HOMES OF THE PEOPLE
I went to Washington the other day, and I stood on the
Capitol Hill; my heart beat quick as I looked at the towering
marble of my country's Capitol and the mist gathered in my
eyes as I thought of its tremendous significance, and the armies
and the treasury, and the judges and the President, and the
Congress and the courts, and all that was gathered there. And
I felt that the sun in all its course could not look down on a better
sight than that majestic home of a republic that had taught the
world its best lessons of liberty. And I felt that if honor and
wisdom and justice abided therein, the world would at last owe
to that great house in which the ark of the covenant of my country
is lodged, its final uplifting and its regeneration.
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION 24I
Two days afterward, I went to visit a friend in the country,
a modest man, with a quiet country home. It was just a simple,
unpretentious house, set about with big trees, encircled in meadow
and field rich with the promise of harvest. The fragrance of the
pink and hollyhock in the front yard was mingled with the aroma
of the orchard and of the gardens, and resonant with the cluck
of poultry and the hum of bees.
Inside was quiet, cleanliness, thrift, and comfort. There was
the old clock that had welcomed, in steady measure, every new-
comer to the family, that had ticked the solemn requiem of the
dead, and had kept company with the watcher at the bedside.
There were the big, restful beds and the old, open fireplace, and
the old family Bible, thumbed with the fingers of hands long
since still, and wet with the tears of eyes long since closed, hold-
ing the simple annals of the family and the heart and the con-
science of the home.
Outside, there stood my friend, the master, a simple, upright
man, with no mortgage on his roof, no lien on his growing crops,
master of his land and master of himself. There was his old
father, an aged, trembling man, but happy in the heart and home
of his son. And as they started to their home, the hands of the
old man went down on the young man's shoulder, laying there
the unspeakable blessing of the honored and grateful father and
ennobling it with the knighthood of the fifth commandment.
And as they reached the door the old mother came with the
sunset falling fair on her face, and lighting up her deep, patient
eyes, while her lips, trembling with the rich music of her heart,
bade her husband and son welcome to their home. Beyond was
the housewife, busy with her household cares, clean of heart and
conscience, the buckler and helpmeet of her husband. Down the
lane came the children, trooping home after the cows, seeking
as truant birds do the quiet of their home nest.
And I saw the night come down on that house, falling gently
as the wings of the unseen dove. And the old man — while a
startled bird called from the forest, and the trees were shrill
with the cricket's cry, and the stars were swarming in the sky —
got the family around him, and, taking the old Bible from the
table, called them to their knees, the little baby hiding in the
folds of its mother's dress, while he closed the record of that
242 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
simple day by calling down God's benediction on that family
and that home. And while I gazed, the vision of that marble
Capitol faded. Forgotten were its treasures and its majesty,
and I said, "Oh, surely here in the homes of the people are lodged
at last the strength and the responsibility of this government,
the hope and the promise of this republic." — Henry W. Grady.
SUGGESTIVE SCENES
One thing in life calls for another; there is a fitness in events
and places. The sight of a pleasant arbor puts it in our mind to
sit there. One place suggests work, another idleness, a third
early rising and long rambles in the dew. The effect of night,
of any flowing water, of lighted cities, of the peep of day, of
ships, of the open ocean, calls up in the mind an army of anony-
mous desires and pleasures. Something, we feel, should happen;
we know not what, yet we proceed in quest of it. And many of
the happiest hours in life fleet by us in this vain attendance on
the genius of the place and moment. It is thus that tracts of
young fir, and low rocks that reach into deep soundings, particu-
larly delight and torture me. Something must have happened
in such places, and perhaps ages back, to members of my race;
and when I was a child I tried to invent appropriate games for
them, as I still try, just as vainly, to fit them with the proper
story. Some places speak distinctly. Certain dank gardens
cry aloud for a murder; certain old houses demand to be haunted;
certain coasts are set aside for shipwreck. Other spots again
seem to abide their destiny, suggestive and impenetrable, "mich-
ing mallecho." The inn at Burford Bridge, with its arbours and
green garden and silent, eddying river — though it is known
already as the place where Keats wrote some of his Endymion
and Nelson parted from his Emma — still seems to wait the com-
ing of the appropriate legend. Within these ivied walls, behind
these old green shutters, some further business smoulders, waiting
for its hour. The old Hawes Inn at the Queen's ferry makes a
similar call upon my fancy. There it stands, apart from the
town, beside the pier, in a climate of its own, half inland, half
marine — in front, the ferry bubbling with the tide and the guard-
ship swinging to her anchor; behind, the old garden with the
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION 243
trees. Americans seek it already for the sake of Lovel and Old-
buck, who dined there at the beginning of the Antiquary. But
you need not tell me — that is not all; there is some story, un-
recorded or not yet complete, which must express the meaning
of that inn more fully. ... I have lived both at the Hawes
and Burford in a perpetual flutter, on the heel, as it seemed, of
some adventure that should justify the place; but though the
feeling had me to bed at night and called me again at morning
in one unbroken round of pleasure and suspense, nothing befell
me in either worth remark. The man or the hour had not yet
come; but some day, I think, a boat shall put off from the
Queen's ferry, fraught with a dear cargo, and some frosty night
a horseman, on a tragic errand, rattle with his whip upon the
green shutters at the inn at Burford.
— R. L. Stevenson, A Gossip on Romance.
FROM ''MIDNIGHT IN LONDON''
Clang! Clang! Clang! the fire-bells! Bing! Bing! Bing! the
alarm! In an instant quiet turns to uproar — an outburst of
noise, excitement, clamor — bedlam broke loose; Bing! Bing!
Bing! Rattle, clash and clatter. Open fly the doors; brave
men mount their boxes. Bing! Bing! Bing! They're off! The
horses tear down the street like mad. Bing! Bing! Bing! goes
the gong!
"Get out of the track! The engines are coming! For God's
sake, snatch that child from the road!"
On, on, wildly, resolutely, madly fly the steeds. Bing! Bing!
the gong. Away dash the horses on the wings of fevered fury.
On whirls the machine, down streets, around comers, up this
avenue and across that one, out into the very bowels of dark-
ness, whiffing, wheezing, shooting a million sparks from the
stack, paving the path of startled night with a galaxy of stars.
Over the house-tops to the north, a volcanic burst of flame
shoots out, belching with blinding effect. The sky is ablaze.
A tenement house is burning. Five hundred souls are in peril.
Merciful Heaven! Spare the victims! Are the engines coming?
Yes, here they are, dashing down the street. Look! the horses
ride upon the wind; eyes bulging like balls of fire; nostrils wide
244 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Open. A palpitating billow of fire, rolling, plunging, bounding,
rising, falling, swelling, heaving, and with mad passion bursting
its red-hot sides asunder, reaching out its arms, encircling,
squeezing, grabbing up, swallowing everything before it with
the hot, greedy mouth of an appalling monster.
How the horses dash around the comer! Animal instinct,
say you? Aye, more. Brute reason.
"Up the ladders, men!"
The towering building is buried in bloated banks of savage,
biting elements. Forked tongues dart out and in, dodge here
and there, up and down, and wind their cutting edges around
every object. A crash, a dull, explosive sound, and a puff of
smoke leaps out. At the highest point upon the roof stands a
dark figure in a desperate strait, the hands making frantic
gestures, the arms swinging wildly — and then the body shoots
off into frightful space, plunging upon the pavement with a
revolting thud. The man's arm strikes a bystander as he darts
down. The crowd shudders, sways, and utters a low murmur
of pity and horror. The faint-hearted lookers-on hide their
faces. One woman swoons away.
"Poor fellow! Dead!" exclaims a laborer, as he looks upon
the man's body.
"Aye, Joe, and I knew him well, too! He lived next door to
me, five flights back. He leaves a widowed mother and two wee
bits of orphans. I helped him bury his wife a fortnight ago.
Ah, Joe! but it's hard lines for the orphans."
A ghastly hour moves on, dragging its regiment of panic in its
trail and leaving crimson blotches of cruelty along the path of
night.
"Are they all out, firemen?"
"Aye, aye, sir!"
"No, they're not! There's a woman in the top window hold-
ing a child in her arms — over yonder in the right-hand corner!
The ladders, there! A hundred pounds to the man who makes
the rescue!"
A dozen start. One man more supple than the others, and
reckless in his bravery, clambers to the top rung of the ladder.
' ' Too short ! " he cries. * ' Hoist another ! ' '
Up it goes. He mounts to the window, fastens the rope, lashes
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION 245
mother and babe, swings them off into ugly emptiness, and lets
them down to be rescued by his comrades.
"Bravo, fireman!" shouts the crowd.
A crash breaks through the uproar of crackling timbers.
"Look alive, up there! Great God! The roof has fallen!"
The walls sway, rock, and tumble in with a deafening roar.
The spectators cease to breathe. The cold truth reveals itself.
The fireman has been carried into the seething furnace. An old
woman, bent with the weight of age, rushes through the fire line,
shrieking, raving, and wringing her hands and opening her heart
of grief.
"Poor John! He was all I had! And a brave lad he was, too!
But he's gone now. He lost his own life in savin' two more, and
now — now he's there, away in there!" she repeats, pointing to
the cruel oven.
The engines do their work. The flames die out. An eerie
gloom hangs over the ruins like a formidable, blackened pall.
And the noon of night is passed. — Ardennes Jones-Foster.
QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS
1. Write two paragraphs on one of these: the race
horse, the motor boat, golfing, tennis; let the first be
pure exposition and the second pure description.
2. Select your own theme and do the same in two
short extemporaneous speeches.
3. Deliver a short original address in the over-orna-
mented style.
4. (a) Point out its defects; (b) recast it in a more
effective style; (c) show how the one surpasses the other.
5. Make a list of ten subjects which lend themselves
to description in the style you prefer.
6. Deliver a two-minute speech on any one of them,
using chiefly, but not solely, description.
7. For one minute, look at any object, scene, action,
246 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
picture, or person you choose, take two minutes to arrange
your thoughts, and then deliver a short description — all
without making written notes.
8. In what sense is description more personal than
exposition?
9. Explain the difference between a scientific and an
artistic description.
10. In the style of Dickens and Irving (pages 234, 235),
write five separate sentences describing five characters by
means of suggestion — one sentence to each.
11. Describe a character by means of a hint, after the
manner of Chaucer (p. 235).
12. Read aloud the following with special attention
to gesture:
His very throat was moral. You saw a good deal of it. You
looked over a very low fence of white cravat (whereof no man
had ever beheld the tie, for he fastened it behind), and there it
lay, a valley between two jutting heights of collar, serene and
whiskerless before you. It seemed to say, on the part of Mr.
Pecksniff, "There is no deception, ladies and gentlemen, all is
peace, a holy calm pervades me." So did his hair, just grizzled
with an iron gray, which was all brushed off his forehead, and
stood bolt upright, or slightly drooped in kindred action with
his heavy eyelids. So did his person, which was sleek though
free from corpulency. So did his manner, which was soft and
oily. In a word, even his plain black suit, and state of widower,
and dangling double eye-glass, all tended to the same purpose, and
cried aloud, "Behold the moral Pecksniff!"
— Charles Dickens, Martin Chuzzlewit.
13. Which of the following do you prefer, and why?
She was a blooming lass of fresh eighteen, plump as a par-
tridge, ripe and melting and rosy-cheeked as one of her father's
peaches. — Irving.
INFLUENCING BY DESCRIPTION 247
She was a splendidly feminine girl, as wholesome as a Novem-
ber pippin, and no more mysterious than a window-pane.
— O. Henry.
Small, shining, neat, methodical, and buxom was Miss Peecher;
cherry-cheeked and tuneful of voice. — Dickens.
14. Invent five epithets, and apply them as you choose
(P- 235)-
15. (a) Make a list of five figures of speech; (b) de-
fine them; (c) give an example — ^preferably original —
under each.
16. Pick out the figures of speech in the address by
Grady, on page 240.
17. Invent an original figure to take the place of any
one in Grady's speech.
18. What sort of figures do you find in the selection
from Stevenson, on page 242?
19. What methods of description does he seem to
prefer?
20. Write and deliver, without notes and with de-
scriptive gestures, a description in imitation of any of the
authors quoted in this chapter.
21. Reexamine one of your past speeches and improve
the descriptive work. Report on what faults you found
to exist.
22. Deliver an extemporaneous speech describing any
dramatic scene in the style of "Midnight in London."
23. Describe an event in your favorite sport in the
style of Dr. Talmage. Be careful to make the delivery
effective.
24^ THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
24. Criticise, favorably or unfavorably, the descriptions
of any travel talk you may have heard recently.
25. Deliver a brief original travel talk, as though you
were showing pictures.
26. Recast the talk and deliver it "without pictures."
CHAPTER XXI
INFLUENCING BY NARRATION
The art of narration is the art of writing in hooks and eyes.
The principle consists in making the appropriate thought follow
the appropriate thought, the proper fact the proper fact; in
first preparing the mind for what is to come, and then letting it
come. — Walter Bagehot, Literary Studies.
Our very speech is curiously historical. Most men, you may
observe, speak only to narrate; not in imparting what they have
thought, which indeed were often a very small matter, but in
exhibiting what they have undergone or seen, which is a quite
unlimited one, do talkers dilate. Cut us off from Narrative, how
would the stream of conversation, even among the wisest, lan-
guish into detached handfuls, and among the foolish utterly
evaporate! Thus, as we do nothing but enact History, we say
little but recite it. — Thomas Carlyle, On History.
Only a small segment of the great field of narration
offers its resources to the public speaker, and that includes
the anecdote, biographical facts, and the narration of
events in general.
Narration — more easily defined than mastered — is the
recital of an incident, or a group of facts and occurrences,
in such a manner as to produce a desired effect.
The laws of narration are few, but its successful practise
involves more of art than would at first appear — so much,
indeed, that we cannot even touch upon its technique
here, but must content ourselves with an examination of
a few examples of narration as used in public speech.
250 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
In a preliminary way, notice how radically the public
speaker's use of narrative differs from that of the story-
writer in the more limited scope, absence of extended
dialogue and character drawing, and freedom from elabora-
tion of detail, which characterize platform narrative. On
the other hand, there are several similarities of method:
the frequent combination of narration with exposition,
description, argumentation, and pleading; the care
exercised in the arrangement of material so as to produce
a strong effect at the close (climax); the very general
practise of concealing the "point" (denouement) of a story
until the effective moment; and the careful suppression
of needless, and therefore hurtful, details.
So we see that, whether for magazine or platform, the
art of narration involves far more than the recital of
annals; the succession of events recorded requires a plan
in order to bring them out with real effect.
It will be noticed, too, that the literary style in plat-
form narration is likely to be either less polished and more
vigorously dramatic than in that intended for publication,
or else more fervid and elevated in tone. In this latter
respect, however, the best platform speaking of today
differs from the models of the preceding generation,
wherein a highly dignified, and sometimes pompous, style
was thought the only fitting dress for a public deliverance.
Great, noble and stirring as these older masters were in
their lofty and impassioned eloquence, we are sometimes
oppressed when we read their sounding periods for any
great length of time — even allowing for all that we lose
by missing the speaker's presence, voice, and fire. So let
INFLUENaNG BY NARRATION 251
US model our platform narration, as our other forms of
speech, upon the effective addresses of the moderns, with-
out lessening our admiration for the older school.
The Anecdote
An anecdote is a short narrative of a single event, told^
as being striking enough to bring out a point. The keener
the point, the more condensed the form, and the more
suddenly the application strikes the hearer, the better the
story.
To regard an anecdote as an illustration — an inter-
pretive picture — will help to hold us to its true purpose,
for a purposeless story is of all offenses on the platform
the most asinine. A perfectly capital joke will fall flat
when it is dragged in by the nape without evident bearing
on the subject under discussion. On the other hand, an
apposite anecdote has saved many a speech from failure.
"There is no finer opportunity for the display of tact
than in the introduction of witty or humorous stories into
a discourse. Wit is keen and like a rapier, piercing
deeply, sometimes even to the heart. Humor is good-
natured, and does not wound. Wit is founded upon the
sudden discovery of an unsuspected relation existing
between two ideas. Humor deals with things out of rela-
tion— with the incongruous. It was wit in Douglass
Jerrold to retort upon the scowl of a stranger whose
shoulder he had familiarly slapped, mistaking him for
a friend: *I beg your pardon, I thought I knew you —
but I'm glad I don't.' It was humor in the Southern
orator, John Wise, to liken the pleasure of spending an
252 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
evening with a Puritan girl to that of sitting on a block of
ice in winter, cracking hailstones between his teeth. "^
The foregoing quotation has been introduced chiefly
to illustrate the first and simplest form of anecdote — the
single sentence embodying a pungent saying.
Another simple form is that which conveys its meaning
without need of "application," as the old preachers used
to say. George Ade has quoted this one as the best joke
he ever heard:
Two solemn-looking gentlemen were riding together in a
railway carriage. One gentleman said to the other: "Is your
wife entertaining this summer?" Whereupon the other gentle-
man replied: "Not very."
Other anecdotes need harnessing to the particular truth
the speaker wishes to carry along in his talk. Sometimes
the application is made before the story is told and the
audience is prepared to make the comparison, point by
point, as the illustration is told. Henry W. Grady used
this method in one of the anecdotes he told while delivering
his great extemporaneous address, "The New South."
Age does not endow all things with strength and virtue, nor
are all new things to be despised. The shoemaker who put over
his door, "John Smith's shop, founded 1760," was more than
matched by his young rival across the street who hung out this
sign: "Bill Jones. Established 1886. No old stock kept in this
shop."
In two anecdotes, told also in "The New South," Mr.
Grady illustrated another way of enforcing the applica-
*Hou> to Attract and Hold an Atidienee, J. Berg E^nwein
INFLUENCING BY NARRATION 253
tion: in both instances he split the idea he wished to
drive home, bringing in part before and part after the
recital of the story. The fact that the speaker misquoted
the words of Genesis in which the Ark is described did not
seem to detract from the burlesque humor of the story.
I bespeak the utmost stretch of your courtesy tonight. I am
not troubled about those from whom I come. You remember the
man whose wife sent him to a neighbor with a pitcher of milk,
who, tripping on the top step, fell, with such casual interruptions
as the landings afforded, into the basement, and, while picking
himself up, had the pleasure of hearing his wife call out:
"John, did you break the pitcher?
"No, I didn't," said John, "but I be dinged if I don't."
So, while those who call to me from behind may inspire me
with energy, if not with courage, I ask an indulgent hearing from
you. I beg that you will bring your full faith in American fair-
ness and frankness to judgment upon what I shall say. There
was an old preacher once who told some boys of the Bible lesson
he was going to read in the morning. The boys, finding the place,
glued together the connecting pages. The next morning he read
on the bottom of one page: "When Noah was one hundred and
twenty years old he took unto himself a wife, who was" — then
turning the page — "one hundred and forty cubits long, forty
cubits wide, built of gopher wood, and covered with pitch inside
and out." He was naturally puzzled at this. He read it again,
verified it, and then said, " My friends, this is the first time I ever
met this in the Bible, but I accept it as an evidence of the asser-
tion that we are fearfully and wonderfully made." If I could get
you to hold such faith to-night, I could proceed cheerfully to the
task I otherwise approach with a sense of consecration.
Now and then a speaker will plunge without introduc-
tion into an anecdote, leaving the application to follow.
The following illustrates this method:
A large, slew-footed darky was leaning against the corner of
the railroad station in a Texas town when the noon whistle in the
254 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
canning factory blew and the hands hurried out, bearing their
grub buckets. The darky Hstened, with his head on one side»
until the rocketing echo had quite died away. Then he heaved
a deep sigh and remarked to himself:
" Dar she go. Dinner time for some folks — but jes' 12 o'clock
fur me!"
That is the situation in thousands of American factories, large
and small, today. And why? etc., etc.
Doubtless the most frequent platform use of the anec-
dote is in the pulpit. The sermon " illustration," however,
is not always strictly narrative in form, but tends to
extended comparison, as the following from Dr. Alexander
Maclaren:
Men will stand as Indian fakirs do, with their arms above their
heads until they stiffen there. They will perch themselves upon
pillars like Simeon Stylites, for years, till the birds build their
nests in their hair. They will measure all the distance from Cape
Comorin to Juggernaut's temple with their bodies along the dusty
road. They will wear hair shirts and scourge themselves. They
will fast and deny themselves. They will build cathedrals and
endow churches. They will do as many of you do, labor by fits
and starts all thru your lives at the endless task of making your-
selves ready for heaven, and winning it by obedience and by
righteousness. They will do all these things and do them gladly,
rather than listen to the humbling message that says, "You do
not need to do anything — wash." Is it your washing, or the
water, that will clean you? Wash and be clean! Naaman's
cleaning was only a test of his obedience, and a token that it was
God who cleansed him. There was no power in Jordan's waters
to take away the taint of leprosy. Our cleansing is in that blood
of Jesus Christ that has the power to take away all sin, and to
make the foulest amongst us pure and clean.
One final word must be said about the introduction to
the anecdote. A clumsy, inappropriate introduction is
INFLUENCING BY NARRATION 255
fatal, whereas a single apt or witty sentence will kindle
interest and prepare a favorable hearing. The following
extreme illustration, by the English humorist, Captain
Harry Graham, well satirizes the stumbling manner:
The best story that I ever heard was one that I was told once
in the fall of 1905 (or it may have been 1906), when I was visiting
Boston — at least, I think it was Boston; it may have been
Washington (my memory is so bad).
I happened to run across a most amusing man whose name I
forget — ^Williams or Wilson or Wilkins; some name like that —
and he told me this story while we were waiting for a trolley car.
I can still remember how heartily I laughed at the time; and
again, that evening, after I had gone to bed, how I laughed myself
to sleep recalling the humor of this incredibly humorous story.
It was really quite extraordinarily funny. In fact, I can truth-
fully affirm that it is quite the most amusing story I have ever
had the privilege of hearing. Unfortunately, I've forgotten it.
Biographical Facts
Public speaking has much to do with personalities;
naturally, therefore, the narration of a series of biographi-
cal details, including anecdotes among the recital of in-
teresting facts, plays a large part in the eulogy, the memo-
rial address, the political speech, the sermon, the lecture,
and other platform deliverances. Whole addresses may
be made up of such biographical details, such as a sermon
on "Moses," or a lecture on "Lee."
The following example is in itself an expanded anecdote,
forming a link in a chain:
MARIUS IN PRISON
The peculiar sublimity of the Roman mind does not express
itself, nor is it at all to be sought, in their poetry. Poetry, accord-
256 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
ing to the Roman ideal of it, was not an adequate organ for the
grander movements of the national mind. Roman sublimity-
must be looked for in Roman acts, and in Roman sayings.
Where, again, will you find a more adequate expression of the
Roman majesty, than in the saying of Trajan — Imperatorem
oportere stantem mori — that Caesar ought to die standing; a
speech of imperatorial grandeur! Implying that he, who was
"the foremost man of all this world," — and, in regard to all
other nations, the representative of his own, — should express its
characteristic virtue in his farewell act — should die in procinctu —
and should meet the last enemy as the first, with a Roman
countenance and in a soldier's attitude. If this had an impera-
torial— what follows had a consular majesty, and is almost the
grandest story upon record.
Marius, the man who rose to be seven times consul, was in a
dungeon, and a slave was sent in with commission to put him
to death. These were the persons, — the two extremities of
exalted and forlorn humanity, its van ward and its rearward
man, a Roman consul and an abject slave. But their natural
relations to each other were, by the caprice of fortune, mon-
strously inverted: the consul was in chains; the slave was for a
moment the arbiter of his fate. By what spells, what magic,
did Marius reinstate himself in his natural prerogatives? By
what marvels drawn from heaven or from earth, did he, in the
twinkling of an eye, again invest himself with the purple, and
place between himself and his assassin a host of shadowy lictors?
By the mere blank supremacy of great minds over weak ones.
He fascinated the slave, as a rattlesnake does a bird. Standing
"like Teneriffe," he smote him with his eye, and said, ''Tune,
homo, audes occidere C. Mariuni?" — "Dost thou, fellow, presume
to kill Caius Marius?" Whereat, the reptile, quaking under the
voice, nor daring to affront the consular eye, sank gently to the
ground — turned round upon his hands and feet — and, crawling
out of the prison like any other vermin, left Marius standing in
solitude as steadfast and immovable as the capitol.
— Thomas De Quincy.
Here is a similar example, prefaced by a general his-
INFLUENCING BY NARRATION 257
torical statement and concluding with autobiographical
details:
A REMINISCENCE OF LEXINGTON
One raw morning in spring — it will be eighty years the 19th
day of this month — Hancock and Adams, the Moses and Aaron
of that Great DeUverance, were both at Lexington; they also
had "obstructed an officer" with brave words. British soldiers,
a thousand strong, came to seize them and carry them over sea
for trial, and so nip the bud of Freedom auspiciously opening in
that early spring. The town militia came together before day-
light, "for training." A great, tall man, with a large head and a
high, wide brow, their captain, — one who had "seen service," —
marshalled them into line, numbering but seventy, and bade
"every man load his piece with powder and ball. I will order the
first man shot that runs away," said he, when some faltered.
"Don't fire unless fired upon, but if they want to have a war,
let it begin here."
Gentlemen, you know what followed; those farmers and
mechanics "fired the shot heard round the world." A little
monument covers the bones of such as before had pledged their
fortune and their sacred honor to the Freedom of America, and
that day gave it also their lives. I was born in that little town,
and bred up amid the memories of that day. When a boy, my
mother lifted me up, one Sunday, in her religious, patriotic arms,
and held me while I read the first monumental line I ever saw —
"Sacred to Liberty and the Rights of Mankind."
Since then I have studied the memorial marbles of Greece and
Rome, in many an ancient town; nay, on Egyptian obelisks
have read what was written before the Eternal raised up Moses
to lead Israel out of Egypt; but no chiseled stone has ever stirred
me to such emotion as these rustic names of men who fell "In
the Sacred Cause of God and their Country."
Gentlemen, the Spirit of Liberty, the Love of Justice, were early
fanned into a flame in my boyish heart. That monument covers
the bones of my own kinsfolk; it was their blood which reddened
the long, green grass at Lexington. It was my own name which
stands chiseled on that stone; the tall captain who marshalled
258 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
his fellow farmers and mechanics into stem array, and spoke
such brave and dangerous words as opened the war of American
Independence, — ^the last to leave the field, — was my father's
father. I learned to read out of his Bible, and with a musket he
that day captured from the foe, I learned another religious
lesson, that "Rebellion to Tyrants is Obedience to God." I
keep them both " Sacred to Liberty and the Rights of Mankind,"
to use them both "In the Sacred Cause of God and my
Country." — Theodore Parker.
Narration of Events in General
In this wider, emancipated narration we find much
mingling of other forms of discourse, greatly to the advan-
tage of the speech, for this truth cannot be too strongly
emphasized: The ejficient speaker cuts loose from form
for the sake of a big, free effect. The present analyses are
for no other purpose than to acquaint you with form — do
not allow any such models to hang as a weight about your
neck.
The following pure narration of events, from George
William Curtis's "Paul Revere's Ride," varies the bio-
graphical recital in other parts of his famous oration:
That evening, at ten o'clock, eight hundred British troops,
under Lieutenant-Colonel Smith, took boat at the foot of the
Common and crossed to the Cambridge shore. Gage thought his
secret had been kept, but Lord Percy, who had heard the people
say on the Common that the troops would miss their aim, un-
deceived him. Gage instantly ordered that no one should leave
the town. But as the troops crossed the river, Ebenezer Dorr,
with a message to Hancock and Adams, was riding over the Neck
to Roxbury, and Paul Revere was rowing over the river to
Charlestown, having agreed with his friend, Robert Newman,
to show lanterns from the belfry of the Old North Church — "One
if by land, and two if by sea" — as a signal of the march of the
British.
INFLUENCING BY NARRATION 259
The following, from the same oration, beautifully
mingles description with narration:
It was a brilliant night. The winter had been unusually mild,
and the spring very forward. The hills were already green. The
early grain waved in the fields, and the air was sweet with the
blossoming orchards. Already the robins whistled, the blue-
birds sang, and the benediction of peace rested upon the land-
scape. Under the cloudless moon the soldiers silently marched,
and Paul Revere swiftly rode, galloping through Medford and
West Cambridge, rousing every house as he went spurring for
Lexington and Hancock and Adams, and evading the British
patrols who had been sent out to stop the news.
In the succeeding extract from another of Mr. Curtis's
addresses, we have a free use of allegory as illustration :
THE LEADERSHIP OF EDUCA TED MEN
There is a modern English picture which the genius of Haw-
thorne might have inspired. The painter calls it, " How they met
themselves." A man and a woman, haggard and weary, wander-
ing lost in a somber wood, suddenly meet the shadowy figures of
a youth and a maid. Some mysterious fascination fixes the gaze
and stills the hearts of the wanderers, and their amazement
deepens into awe as they gradually recognize themselves as once
they were; the soft bloom of youth upon their rounded cheeks,
the dewy light of hope in their trusting eyes, exulting confidence
in their springing step, themselves blithe and radiant with the
glory of the dawn. Today, and here, we meet ourselves. Not
to these familiar scenes alone — yonder college-green with its
reverend traditions; the halcyon cove of the Seekonk, upon which
the memory of Roger Williams broods like a bird of calm; the
historic bay, beating forever with the muffled oars of Barton and
of Abraham Whipple; here, the humming city of the living;
there, the peaceful city of the dead; — not to these only or chiefly
do we return, but to ourselves as we once were. It is not the
smiling freshmen of the year, it is your own beardless and un-
wrinkled faces, that are looking from the windows of University
26o THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Hall and of Hope College. Under the trees upon the hill it is
yourselves whom you see walking, full of hopes and dreams,
glowing with conscious power, and "nourishing a youth sublime; "
and in this familiar temple, which surely has never echoed with
eloquence so fervid and inspiring as that of your commencement
orations, it is not yonder youths in the galleries who, as they
fondly believe, are whispering to yonder maids; it is your
younger selves who, in the days that are no more, are murmuring
to the fairest mothers and grandmothers of those maids.
Happy the worn and weary man and woman in the picture
could they have felt their older eyes still glistening with that
earlier light, and their hearts yet beating with undiminished
sympathy and aspiration. Happy we, brethren, whatever may
have been achieved, whatever left undone, if, returning to the
home of our earlier years, we bring with us the illimitable hope,
the unchilled resolution, the inextinguishable faith of youth.
— George William Curtis.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Clip from any source ten anecdotes and state what
truths they may be used to illustrate.
2. Deliver five of these in your own language, without
making any application.
3. From the ten, deliver one so as to make the applica-
tion before telling the anecdote.
4. Deliver another so as to split the application.
5. Deliver another so as to make the application after
the narration.
6. Deliver another in such a way as to make a specific
application needless.
7. Give three ways of introducing an anecdote, by
saying where you heard it, etc.
8. Deliver an illustration that is not strictly an anec-
dote, in the style of Curtis's speech on page 259.
INFLUENCING BY NARRATION 261
9. Deliver an address on any public character, using
the forms illustrated in this chapter.
10. Deliver an address on some historical event in the
same manner.
11. Explain how the sympathies and viewpoint of the
speaker will color an anecdote, a biography, or a historical
account.
12. Illustrate how the same anecdote, or a section of
a historical address, may be given two different effects by
personal prejudice.
13. What would be the effect of shifting the viewpoint
in the midst of a narration?
14. What is the danger of using too much humor in
an address? Too much pathos?
CHAPTER XXII
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION
Sometimes the feeling that a given way of looking at things is
undoubtedly correct prevents the mind from thinking at all.
. . . . In view of the hindrances which certain kinds or
degrees of feeling throw into the way of thinking, it might be
inferred that the thinker must suppress the element of feeling
in the inner life. No greater mistake could be made. If the
Creator endowed man with the power to think, to feel, and to
will, these several activities of the mind are not designed to be in
conflict, and so long as any one of them is not perverted or allowed
to run to excess, it necessarily aids and strengthens the others
in their normal functions,
— Nathan C. Schaeffer, Thinking and Learning to Think.
When we weigh, compare, and decide upon the value
of any given ideas, we reason; when an idea produces in
us an opinion or an action, without first being subjected
to deliberation, we are moved by suggestion.
Man was formerly thought to be a reasoning animal,
basing his actions on the conclusions of natural logic. It
was supposed that before forming an opinion or deciding
on a course of conduct he weighed at least some of the
reasons for and against the matter, and performed a more
or less simple process of reasoning. But modern research
has shown that quite the opposite is true. Most of our
opinions and actions are not based upon conscious reason-
ing, but are the result of suggestion. In fact, some
authorities declare that an act of pure reasoning is very
rare in the average mind. Momentous decisions are made,
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 263
far-reaching actions are determined upon, primarily by
the force of suggestion.
Notice that word "primarily," for simple thought, and
even mature reasoning, often follows a suggestion accepted
in the mind, and the thinker fondly supposes that his con-
clusion is from first to last based on cold logic.
The Basis of Suggestion
We must think of suggestion both as an efifect and as a
cause. Considered as an effect, or objectively, there must
be something in the hearer that predisposes him to receive
suggestion; considered as a cause, or subjectively, there
must be some methods by which the speaker can move
upon that particularly susceptible attitude of the hearer.
How to do this honestly and fairly is our problem — to do
it dishonestly and trickily, to use suggestion to bring
about conviction and action without a basis of right and
truth and in a bad cause, is to assume the terrible responsi-
bility that must fall on the champion of error. Jesus
scorned not to use suggestion so that he might move men
to their benefit, but every vicious trickster has adopted
the same means to reach base ends. Therefore honest
men will examine well into their motives and into the
truth of their cause, before seeking to influence men by
suggestion.
Three fundamental conditions make us all susceptive to
suggestion:
We naturally respect authority. In every mind this
is only a question of degree, ranging from the subject
who is easily hypnotized to the stubborn mind that forti-
264 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
fies itself the more strongly with every assault upon its
opinion. The latter type is almost immune to suggestion.
One of the singular things about suggestion is that it is
rarely a fixed quantity. The mind that is receptive to the
authority of a certain person may prove inflexible to
another; moods and environments that produce hypnosis
readily in one instance may be entirely inoperative in
/ another; and some minds can scarcely ever be thus movedv
I We do know, however, that the feeling of the subject that\
I authority — influence, power, domination, control, what- \
I ,^ver you wish to call it — lies in the person of the suggester, I
is the basis of all suggestion. -^
The extreme force of this influence is demonstrated in
hynoptism. The hy nop tic subject is told that he is in the
water; he accepts the statement as true and makes swim-
ming motions. He is told that a band is marching down
the street,^ playing "The Star Spangled Banner;" he
declares he]_hears the music, arises and stands with head
bared.
In the sameVway some speakers are able to achieve a
modified hypnotic effect upon their audiences. The
hearers ^will^applaud measures and ideas which, after in-
dividual reflection, they will repudiate unless such reflec-
tion brings ^the^conviction that the first impression is
correct.
A second important principle is that our feelings,
thoughts and wills tend to follow the line of least resistance.
Once open the mind to the sway of one feeUng and it
requires a greater power of feeling, thought, or will —
or even^all three — to unseat it. Our feelings influence
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 265
our judgments and volitions much more than we care
to admit. So true is this that it is a superhuman task
to get an audience to reason fairly on a subject on which
it feels deeply, and when this result is accomplished the
success becomes noteworthy, as in the case of Henry
Ward Beecher's Liverpool speech. Emotional ideas once
accepted are soon cherished, and finally become our very
inmost selves. Attitudes based on feelings alone are
prejudices.
What is true of our feelings, in this respect, applies to
our ideas: All thoughts that enter the mind tend to be
accepted as truth unless a stronger and contradictory
thought arises.
The speaker skilled in moving men to action manages to
dominate the minds of his audience with his thoughts by
subtly prohibiting the entertaining of ideas hostile to his
own. Most of us are captured by the latest strong attack,
and if we can be induced to act while under the stress of
that last insistent thought, we lose sight of counter in-
fluences. The fact is that almost all our decisions — if they
involve thought at all — are of this sort: At the moment
of decision the course of action then under contemplation
usurps the attention, and conflicting ideas are dropped
out of consideration.
The head of a large publishing house remarked only
recently that ninety per cent of the people who bought
books by subscription never read them. They buy be-
cause the salesman presents his wares so skillfully that
every consideration but the attractiveness of the book
drops out of the mind, and that thought prompts action.
266 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Every idea that enters the mind will result in action unless
a contradictory thought arises to prohibit it. Think of
singing the musical scale and it will result in your singing
it unless the counter-thought of its futility or absurdity
inhibits your action. If you bandage and "doctor" a
horse's foot, he will go lame. You cannot think of swal-
lowing, without the muscles used in that process being
affected. You cannot think of saying "hello," without
a slight movement of the muscles of speech. To warn
children that they should not put beans up their noses
is the surest method of getting them to do it. Every
thought called up in the mind of your audience will work
either for or against you. Thoughts are not dead matter;
they radiate dynamic energy — the thoughts all tend to
pass into action. "Thought is another name for
fate." Dominate your hearers' thoughts, allay all con-
tradictory ideas, and you will sway them as you wish.
Volitions as well as feelings and thoughts tend to
follow the line of least resistance. That is what makes
habit. Suggest to a man that it is impossible to change his
mind and in most cases it becomes more diflScult to do so
— the exception is the man who naturally jumps to the
contrary. Counter suggestion is the only way to reach
him. Suggest subtly and persistently that the opinions
of those in the audience who are opposed to your views
are changing, and it requires an effort of the will — in fact,
a summoning of the forces of feeling, thought and will —
to stem the tide of change that has subconsciously set in.
But, not only are we moved by authority, and tend to-
ward channels of least resistance: We are all influenced by
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 267
our environments. It is difficult to rise above the sway of
a crowd — its enthusiasms and its fears are contagious be-
cause they are suggestive. What so many feel, we say to
ourselves, must have some basis in truth. Ten times ten
makes more than one hundred. Set ten men to speaking
to ten audiences of ten men each, and compare the aggre-
gate power of those ten speakers with that of one man
addressing one hundred men. The ten speakers may be
more logically convincing than the single orator, but the
chances are strongly in favor of the one man's reaching a
greater total effect, for the hundred men will radiate
conviction and resolution as ten small groups could
not. We all know the truism about the enthusiasm of
numbers. (See the chapter on "Influencing the Crowd.")
Environment controls us unless the contrary is strongly
suggested. A gloomy day, in a drab room, sparsely
tenanted by listeners, invites platform disaster. Everyone
feels it in the air. But let the speaker walk squarely up
to the issue and suggest by all his feeling, manner and
words that this is going to be a great gathering in every
vital sense, and see how the suggestive power of environ-
ment recedes before the advance of a more potent sugges-
tion— if such the speaker is able to make it.
Now these three factors — respect for authority, tend-
ency to follow lines of least resistance, and susceptibility
to environment — all help to bring the auditor into a state
of mind favorable to suggestive influences, but they also
react on the speaker, and now we must consider those
personally causative, or subjective, forces which enable
him to use suggestion effectively.
268 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
How the speaker Can Make Suggestion Effective
We have seen that under the influence of authoritative
suggestion the audience is inclined to accept the speaker's
assertion without argument and criticism. But the audi-
ence is not in this state of mind unless it has implicit con-
fidence in the speaker. If they lack faith in him, question
his motives or knowledge, or even object to his manner,
they will not be moved by his most logical conclusions
and will fail to give him a just hearing. It is all a matter
of their confidence in him. Whether the speaker finds it
already in the warm, expectant look of his hearers, or
must win to it against opposition or coldness, he must
gain that one great vantage point before his suggestions
take on power in the hearts of his Usteners. Confidence
is the mother of Conviction.
Note in the opening of Henry W. Grady's after-dinner
speech how he attempted to secure the confidence of his
audience. He created a receptive atmosphere by a
himiorous story; expressed his desire to speak with
earnestness and sincerity; acknowledged "the vast in-
terests involved;" deprecated his "untried arm," and
professed his humility. Would not such an introduc-
tion give you confidence in the speaker, unless you were
strongly opposed to him? And even then, would it not
partly disarm your antagonism?
Mr. President: — Bidden by your invitation to a discussion of
the race problem — forbidden by occasion to make a political
speech — I appreciate, in trying to reconcile orders with propriety,
the perplexity of the little maid, who, bidden to learn to swim,
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 269
was yet adjured, "Now, go, my darling; hang your clothes on
a hickory limb, and don't go near the water."
The stoutest apostle of the Church, they say, is the missionary,
and the missionary, wherever he unfurls his flag, will never find
himself in deeper need of unction and address than I, bidden
tonight to plant the standard of a Southern Democrat in Boston's
banquet hall, and to discuss the problem of the races in the home
of Phillips and of Sumner. But, Mr. President, if a purpose to
speak in perfect frankness and sincerity; if earnest understand-
ing of the vast interests involved; if a consecrating sense of what
disaster may follow further misunderstanding and estrangement;
if these may be counted to steady undisciplined speech and to
strengthen an untried arm — then, sir, I shall find the courage
to proceed.
Note also Mr. Bryan's attempt to secure the confidence
of his audience in the following introduction to his " Cross
of Gold" speech delivered before the National Demo-
cratic Convention in Chicago, 1896. He asserts his own
inability to oppose the "distinguished gentleman;" he
maintains the holiness of his cause; and he declares that
he will speak in the interest of humanity — well knowing
that humanity is likely to have confidence in the champion
of their rights. This introduction completely dominated
the audience, and the speech made Mr. Bryan famous.
Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen of the Convention: I would
be presumptuous indeed to present myself against the distin-
guished gentlemen to whom you have listened if this were a mere
measuring of abilities; but this is not a contest between persons.
The humblest citizen in all the land, when clad in the armor of a
righteous cause, is stronger than all the hosts of error. I come to
speak to you in defense of a cause as holy as the cause of liberty —
the cause of humanity.
Some speakers are able to beget confidence by their very
manner, while others can not.
270 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
To secure confidence^ he confident. How can you expect
others to accept a message in which you lack, or seem to
lack, faith yourself? Confidence is as contagious as disease.
Napoleon rebuked an oflScer for using the word "impossi-
ble" in his presence. The speaker who will entertain no
idea of defeat begets in his hearers the idea of his victory-
Lady Macbeth was so confident of success that Macbeth
changed his mind about undertaking the assassination.
Columbus was so certain in his mission that Queen
Isabella pawned her jewels to finance his expedition.
Assert your message with implicit assurance, and your own
beUef will act as so much gunpowder to drive it home.
Advertisers have long utilized this principle. "The
machine you will eventually buy," "Ask the man who
owns one," "Has the strength of Gibraltar," are publicity
slogans so full of confidence that they give birth to con-
fidence in the mind of the reader.
It should — ^but may not! — ^go without saying that con-
fidence must have a solid ground of merit or there will be
a ridiculous crash. It is all very well for the "spell-
binder" to claim all the precincts — the official count is
just ahead. The reaction against over-confidence and
over-suggestion ought to warn those whose chief asset is
mere bluff.
A short time ago a speaker arose in a public-speaking
club and asserted that grass would spring from wood-
ashes sprinkled over the soil, without the aid of seed.
This idea was greeted with a laugh, but the speaker was
so sure of his position that he reiterated the statement
forcefully several times and cited his own personal experi-
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 27I
ence as proof. One of the most intelligent men in the
audience, who at first had derided the idea, at length came
to believe in it. When asked the reason for his sudden
change of attitude, he replied: "Because the speaker is
so confident." In fact, he was so confident that it took a
letter from the U. S. Department of Agriculture to dis-
lodge his error.
If by a speaker's confidence, intelligent men can be
made to believe such preposterous theories as this where
will the power of self-reliance cease when plausible proposi-
tions are under consideration, advanced with all the power
of convincing speech?
Note the utter assurance in these selections:
I know not what course others may take, but as for me give
me liberty or give me death. — Patrick Henry.
I ne'er will ask ye quarter, and I ne'er will be your slave;
But I'll swim the sea of slaughter, till I sink beneath its wave.
— Patten.
Come one, come all. This rock shall fly
From its firm base as soon as I.
— Sir Walter Scott.
INVICTUS
Out of the night that covers me.
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever Gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud;
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
272 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate ;
I am the captain of my soul.
— William Ernest Henley.
Authority is a factor in suggestion. We generally accept
as truth, and without criticism, the words of an authority.
When he speaks, contradictory ideas rarely arise in the
mind to inhibit the action he suggests. A judge of the
Supreme Court has the power of his words multiplied by
the virtue of his position. The ideas of the U. S. Commis-
sioner of Immigration on his subject are much more
effective and powerful than those of a soap manufacturer,
though the latter may be an able economist.
This principle also has been used in advertising. We
are told that the physicians to two Kings have rec-
ommended Sanatogen. We are informed that the largest
bank in America, Tiffany and Co., and The State, War,
and Navy Departments, all use the Encyclopedia Bri-
tannica. The shrewd promoter gives stock in his company
to influential bankers or business men in the community
in order that he may use their examples as a selling
argument.
If you wish to influence your audience through sugges-
tion, if you would have your statements accepted without
criticism or argument, you should appear in the light of
an authority — and be one. Ignorance and credulity will
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 273
remain unchanged unless the suggestion of authority be
followed promptly by facts. Don't claim authority un-
less you carry your license in your pocket. Let reason
support the position that suggestion has assumed.
Advertising will help to establish your reputation —
it is "up to you" to maintain it. One speaker found that
his reputation as a magazine writer was a splendid asset
as a speaker. Mr. Bryan's publicity, gained by three
nominations for the presidency and his position as Secre-
tary of State, helps him to command large sums as a
speaker. But — back of it all, he is a great speaker. News-
paper announcements, all kinds of advertising, formality,
impressive introductions, all have a capital effect on the
attitude of the audience. But how ridiculous are all these
if a toy pistol is advertised as a sixteen-inch gun!
Note how authority is used in the following to support
the strength of the speaker's appeal:
Professor Alfred Russell Wallace has just celebrated his 90th
birthday. Sharing with Charles Darwin the honor of discovering
evolution, Professor Wallace has lately received many and signal
honors from scientific societies. At the dinner given him in
London his address was largely made up of reminiscences. He
reviewed the progress of civilization during the last century and
made a series of brilliant and startling contrasts between the
England of 1813 and the world of 1913. He affirmed that our
progress is only seeming and not real. Professor Wallace insists
that the painters, the sculptors, the architects of Athens and
Rome were so superior to the modern men that the very fragments
of their. marbles and temples are the despair of the present day
artists. He tells us that man has improved his telescope and
spectacles, but that he is losing his eyesight ; that man is improv-
ing his looms, but stiffening his fingers; improving his automobile
and his locomotive, but losing his legs; improving his foods, but
274 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
losing his digestion. He adds that the modem white slave traffic,
orphan asylums, and tenement house life in factory towns, make
a black page in the history of the twentieth century.
Professor Wallace's views are reinforced by the report of the
commission of Parliament on the causes of the deterioration of
the factory-class people. In our own country Professor Jordan
warns us against war, intemperance, overworking, underfeeding
of poor children, and disturbs our contentment with his "Harvest
of Blood." Professor Jenks is more pessimistic. He thinks
that the pace, the climate, and the stress of city life, have broken
down the Puritan stock, that in another century our old families
will be extinct, and that the flood of immigration means a Niagara
of muddy waters fouling the pure springs of American life. In
his address in New Haven Professor Kellogg calls the roll of the
signs of race degeneracyjand tells us that this deterioration even
indicates a trend toward race extinction.
— Newell Dwight Hillis.
From every side come warnings to the American people. Our
medical journals are filled with danger signals; new books and
magazines, fresh';,*from, 'the press, tell us plainly that our people
are fronting a social crisis. Mr. Jefferson, who was once regarded
as good Democratic'^authority, seems to have differed in opinion
from the gentlemaniJwhO;has addressed us on the part of the
minority. Those jwho. are opposed to this proposition tell us that
the issue of paper money is a function of the bank, and that the
government ought to go out of the banking business. I stand
with Jefferson rather than with them, and tell them, as he did,
that the issuelofjmoney is a function of government, and that
the banks ought '.to go out of the governing business.
— ^William Jennings Bryan.
Authority is the great weapon against doubt, but even
its force can rarely prevail against prejudice and per-
sistent wrong-headedness. If any speaker has been able
to forge a sword that is warranted to piece such armor, let
him bless humanity by sharing his secret with his plat-
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 275
form brethren everywhere, for thus far he is alone in his
glory.
There is a middle-ground between the suggestion of
authority and the confession of weakness that offers a
wide range for tact in the speaker. No one can advise
you when to throw your "hat in the ring" and say de-
fiantly at the outstart, "Gentlemen, I am here to fight!"
Theodore Roosevelt can do that — Beecher would have
been mobbed if he had begun in that style at Liverpool.
It is for your own tact to decide whether you will use the
disarming grace of Henry W. Grady's introduction just
quoted (even the time-worn joke was ingenuous and
seemed to say, "Gentlemen, I come to you with no care-
fully-palmed coins"), or whether the solemn gravity of
Mr. Bryan before the Convention will prove to be more
effective. Only be sure that your opening attitude is well
thought out, and if it change as you warm up to your
subject, let not the change lay you open to a revulsion of
feeling in your audience.
Example is a powerful means of suggestion. As we saw
while thinking of environment in its effects on an audience,
we do, without the usual amount of hesitation and criti-
cism, what others are doing. Paris wears certain hats and
gowns; the rest of the world imitates. The child mimics
the actions, accents and intonations of the parent. Were
a child never to hear anyone speak, he would never
acquire the power of speech, unless under most arduous
training, and even then only imperfectly. One of the
biggest department stores in the United States spends
fortimes on one advertising slogan: "Everybody is going
276 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
to the big store." That makes everybody want to go.
You can reinforce the power of your message by showing
that it has been widely accepted. Political organizations
subsidize applause to create the impression that their
speakers' ideas are warmly received and approved by the
audience. The advocates of the commission-form of
government of cities, the champions of votes for women,
reserve as their strongest arguments the fact that a num-
ber of cities and states have already successfully accepted
their plans. Advertisements use the testimonial for its
power of suggestion.
Observe how this principle has been applied in the fol-
lowing selections, and utilize it on every occasion possible
in your attempts to influence through suggestion:
The war is actually begun. The next gale that sweeps from
the North will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms.
Our brethren are already in the field. Why stand ye here idle?
— Patrick Henry.
With a zeal approaching the zeal which inspired the Crusaders
who followed Peter the Hermit, our silver Democrats went forth
from victory unto victory until they are now assembled, not to
discuss, not to debate, but to enter up the judgment already
rendered by the plain people of this country. In this contest
brother has been arrayed against brother, father against son.
The warmest ties of love, acquaintance, and association have been
disregarded; old leaders have been cast aside when they refused
to give expression to the sentiments of those whom they would
lead, and new leaders have sprung up to give direction to this
cause of truth. Thus has the contest been waged, and we have
assembled here under as binding and solemn instructions as were
ever imposed upon representatives of the people.
— William Jennings Bryan.
INFLUENCING BY SUGGESTION 277
Figurative and indirect language has suggestive force,
because it does not make statements that can be directly-
disputed. It arouses no contradictory ideas in the minds
of the audience, thereby fulfilling one of the basic req-
uisites of suggestion. By implying a conclusion in indi-
rect or figurative language it is often asserted most
forcefully.
Note that in the following Mr. Bryan did not say that
Mr. McKinley would be defeated. He implied it in a
much more effective manner:
Mr. McKinley was nominated at St. Louis upon a platform
which declared for the maintenance of the gold standard until
it can be changed into bimetallism by international agreement.
Mr. McKinley was the most popular man among the Republicans,
and three months ago everybody in the Republican party
prophesied his election. How is it today? Why, the man who
was once pleased to think that he looked like Napoleon — that
man shudders today when he remembers that he was nominated
on the anniversary of the battle of Waterloo. Not only that, but
as he listens he can hear with ever-increasing distinctness the
sound of the waves as they beat upon the lonely shores of St.
Helena.
Had Thomas Carlyle said: "A false man cannot found
a religion," his words would have been neither so sugges-
tive nor so powerful, nor so long remembered as his impli-
cation in these striking words:
A false man found a religion? Why, a false man cannot build
a brick house ! If he does not know and follow truly the proper-
ties of mortar, burnt clay, and what else he works in, it is no
house that he makes, but a rubbish heap. It will not stand for
twelve centuries, to lodge a hundred and eighty millions; it will
278 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
fall straightway. A man must conform himself to Nature's
laws, be verily in communion with Nature and the truth of things,
or Nature will answer him, No, not at all!
Observe how the picture that Webster draws here is
much more emphatic and forceful than any mere asser-
tion could be:
Sir, I know not how others may feel, but as for myself when I
see my alma mater surrounded, like Caesar in the senate house,
by those who are reiterating stab after stab, I would not for this
right hand have her turn to me and say, "And thou, too, my
son!" — Webster.
A speech should be built on sound logical foundations,
and no man should dare to speak in behalf of a fallacy.
Arguing a subject, however, will necessarily arouse con-
tradictory ideas in the mind of your audience. When
immediate action or persuasion is desired, suggestion is
more efl&cacious than argument — when both are judi-
ciously mixed, the effect is irresistible.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Make an outline, or brief, of the contents of this
chapter.
2. Revise the introduction to any of your written
addresses, with the teachings of this chapter in mind.
3. Give two original examples of the power of sugges-
tion as you have observed it in each of these fields: {a)
advertising; {b) politics; (c) pubUc sentiment.
4. Give original examples of suggestive speech, illus-
trating two of the principles set forth in this chapter.
INFLUENaNG BY SUGGESTION 279
5. What reasons can you give that disprove the gen-
eral contention of this chapter?
6. What reasons not already given seem to you to
support it?
7. What effect do his own suggestions have on the
speaker himself?
8. Can suggestion arise from the audience? If so,
show how.
9. Select two instances of suggestion in the speeches
found in the Appendix.
10. Change any two passages in the same, or other,
speeches so as to use suggestion more effectively.
11. Deliver those passages in the revised form.
12. Choosing your own subject, prepare and deliver
a short speech largely in the suggestive style.
CHAPTER XXIII
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT
Common sense is the common sense of mankind. It is the
product of common observation and experience. It is modest,
plain, and unsophisticated. It sees with everybody's eyes, and
hears with everybody's ears. It has no capricious distinctions,
no perplexities, and no mysteries. It never equivocates, and
never trifles. Its language is always intelligible. It is known by
clearness of speech and singleness of purpose.
— George Jacob Holyoake, Public Speaking and Debate.
The very name of logic is awesome to most young speak-
ers, but so soon as they come to realize that its processes,
even when most intricate, are merely technical statements
of the truths enforced by common sense, it will lose its
terrors. In fact, logic^ is a fascinating subject, well worth
the public speaker's study, for it explains the principles
that govern the use of argument and proof.
Argumentation is the process of producing conviction
by means of reasoning. Other ways of producing convic-
tion there are, notably suggestion, as we have just shown,
but no means is so high, so worthy of respect, as the
adducing of sound reasons in support of a contention.
Since more than one side of a subject must be considered
before we can claim to have deliberated upon it fairly,
we ought to think of argumentation under two aspects:
1 McCosh's Logic is a helpful volume, and not too technical for the beginner.
A brief digest of logical principles as applied to public speaking is contained in
How to Attract and Hold an Audience, by J. Berg E^enwein.
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT 281
building up an argument, and tearing down an argument;
that is, you must not only examine into the stability of
your structure of argument so that it may both support
the proposition you intend to probe and yet be so sound
that it cannot be overthrown by opponents, but you must
also be so keen to detect defects in argument that you
will be able to demolish the weaker arguments of those
who argue against you.
We can consider argumentation only generally, leaving
minute and technical discussions to such excellent works
as George P. Baker's "The Principles of Argumentation,"
and George Jacob Holyoake's "Public Speaking and
Debate." Any good college rhetoric also will give help
on the subject, especially the works of John Franklin
Genung and Adams Sherman Hill. The student is urged
to familiarize himself with at least one of these texts.
The following series of questions will, it is hoped, serve
a triple purpose: that of suggesting the forms of proof
together with the ways in which they may be used;
that of helping the speaker to test the strength of his
arguments; and that of enabling the speaker to attack
his opponent's arguments with both keenness and justice.
TESTING AN ARGUMENT
I. The Question Under Discussion
I. Is it clearly stated?
(a) Do the terms of statement mean the same to
each disputant? (For example, the meaning
of the term "gentleman" may not be mutu-
ally agreed upon.)
282 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
(b) Is confusion likely to arise as to its purpose?
2. Is it fairly stated?
(a) Does it include enough?
(b) Does it include too much?
(c) Is it stated so as to contain a trap?
3. Is it a debatable question?
4. What is the pivotal point in the whole question?
5. What are the subordinate points?
II. The Evidence
1. The witnesses as to facts
(a) Is each witness impartial? What is his rela-
tion to the subject at issue?
(6) Is he mentally competent?
(c) Is he morally credible?
{d) Is he in a position to know the facts? Is he
an eye-witness?
{e) Is he a willing witness?
if) Is his testimony contradicted?
(g) Is his testimony corroborated?
(A) Is his testimony contrary to well-known
facts or general principles?
(*) Is it probable?
2. The authorities cited as evidence
(a) Is the authority well-recognized as such?
{b) What constitutes him an authority?
(c) Is his interest in the case an impartial
one?
{d) Does he state his opinion positively and
clearly?
(e) Are the non-personal authorities cited
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT 283
(books, etc.) reliable and unprejudiced?
3. The facts adduced as evidence
(a) Are they sufficient in number to constitute
proof?
(b) Are they weighty enough in character?
(c) Are they in harmony with reason?
(d) Are they mutually harmonious or contra-
dictory?
(e) Are they admitted, doubted, or disputed?
4. The principles addiiced as evidence
(a) Are they axiomatic?
(b) Are they truths of general experience?
(c) Are they truths of special experience?
(d) Are they truths arrived at by experiment?
Were such experiments special or
general?
Were the experiments authoritative
and conclusive?
III. The Reasoning
I. Inductions
(a) Are the facts numerous enough to warrant
accepting the generalization as being con-
clusive?
(ft) Do the facts agree only when considered in
the light of this explanation as a conclusion?
(c) Have you overlooked any contradictory
facts?
(d) Are the contradictory facts sufficiently ex-
plained when this inference is accepted as
true?
284 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
{e) Are all contrary positions shown to be rela-
tively untenable?
(/") Have you accepted mere opinions as facts?
2. Deductions
(a) Is the law or general principle a well-
established one?
(b) Does the law or principle clearly include the
fact you wish to deduce from it, or have you
strained the inference?
(c) Does the importance of the law or principle
warrant so important an inference?
(d) Can the deduction be shown to prove too
much?
3. Parallel cases
(a) Are the cases parallel at enough points to
warrant an inference of similar cause or
effect?
(b) Are the cases parallel at the vital point at
issue?
(c) Has the parallelism been strained?
(d) Are there no other parallels that would point
to a stronger contrary conclusion?
4. Inferences
(a) Are the antecedent conditions such as would
make the allegation probable? (Character
and opportunities of the accused, for ex-
ample.)
(b) Are the signs that point to the inference
either clear or numerous enough to warrant
its acceptance as fact?
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT 285
(c) Are the signs cumulative, and agreeable one
with the other?
(d) Could the signs be made to point to a con-
trary conclusion?
5. Syllogisms
(a) Have any steps been omitted in the syllo-
gisms? (Such as in a syllogism in
(enthymeme.) If so, test any such by filling
out the syllogisms.
(b) Have you been guilty of stating a conclusion
that really does not follow? (A non sequitur.)
{c) Can your syllogism be reduced to an ab-
surdity? {ReducHo ad absurdum.)
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Show why an unsupported assertion is not an argu-
ment.
2. Illustrate how an irrelevant fact may be made to
seem to support an argument.
3. What inferences may justly be made from the
following?
During the Boer War it was found that the average English-
man did not measure up to the standards of recruiting and the
average soldier in the field manifested a low plane of vitality and
endurance. Parliament, alarmed by the disastrous consequences,
instituted an investigation. The commission appointed brought
in a finding that alcoholic poisoning was the great cause of the
national degeneracy. The investigations of the commission have
been supplemented by investigations of scientific bodies and
individual scientists, all arriving at the same conclusion. As a
consequence, the British Government has placarded the streets
286 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
of a hundred cities with billboards setting forth the destructive
and degenerating nature of alcohol and appealing to the people
in the name of the nation to desist from drinking alcoholic
beverages. Under efforts directed by the Government the British
Army is fast becoming an army of total abstainers.
The Governments of continental Europe followed the lead of
the British Government. The French Government has placarded
France with appeals to the people, attributing the decline of
the birth rate and increase in the death rate to the widespread
use of alcoholic beverages. The experience of the German
Government has been the same. The German Emperor has
clearly stated that leadership in war and in peace will be held by
the nation that roots out alcohol. He has undertaken to eliminate
even the drinking of beer, so far as possible, from the German
Army and Navy. — Richmond Pearson Hobson, Before the U. S.
Congress.
4. Since the burden of proof lies on him who attacks a
position, or argues for a change in affairs, how would his
opponent be likely to conduct his own part of a debate?
5. Define (a) syllogism; {h) rebuttal; (c) "begging
the question;" {d) premise; {e) rejoinder; (f) sur-
rejoinder; (g) dilemma; {h) induction; {i) deduction;
(j) a priori; (k) a posteriori; (/) inference.
6. Criticise this reasoning:
Men ought not to smoke tobacco, because to do so is contrary
to best medical opinion. My physician has expressly condemned
the practise, and is a medical authority in this country.
7. Criticise this reasoning:
Men ought not to swear profanely, because it is wrong. It
is wrong for the reason that it is contrary to the Moral Law,
and it is contrary to the Moral Law because it is contrary to the
Scriptures. It is contrary to the Scriptures because it is contrary
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT 287
to the will of God, and we know it is contrary to God's will
because it is wrong.
8. Criticise this syllogism:
Major Premise: All men who have no cares are happy.
Minor Premise: Slovenly men are careless.
Conclusion : Therefore, slovenly men are happy.
9. Criticise the following major, or foundation,
premises:
All is not gold that glitters.
All cold may be expelled by fire.
10. Criticise the following fallacy {non sequitur):
Major Premise: All strong men admire strength.
Minor Premise: This man is not strong.
Conclusion : Therefore this man does not admire strength.
II. Criticise these statements:
Sleep is beneficial on account of its soporific qualities.
Fiske's histories are authentic because they contain accurate
accounts of American history, and we know that they are true
accounts for otherwise they would not be contained in these
authentic works.
1 2 . What do you understand from the terms "reasoning
from effect to cause" and "from cause to effect?" Give
examples.
13. What principle did Richmond Pearson Hobson
employ in the following?
What is the police power of the States? The police power of
the Federal Government or the State — any sovereign State — has
288 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
been defined. Take the definition given by Blackstone, which is:
The due regtdation and domestic order of the King-
dom, whereby the inhabitants of a State, like members
of a well-governed family, are bound to conform their
general behavior to the rules of propriety, of neighbor-
hood and good manners, and to be decent, industrious,
and inoffensive in their respective stations.
Would this amendment interfere with any State carrying on
the promotion of its domestic order?
Or you can take the definition in another form, in which it is
given by Mr. Tiedeman, when he says:
The object of government is to impose that degree of
restraint upon human actions which is necessary to a
uniform, reasonable enjoyment of private rights. The
power of the government to impose this restraint is
called the police power.
Judge Cooley says of the liquor traffic:
The business of manufacturing and selling liquor is one
that affects the public interests in many ways and leads
to many disorders. It has a tendency to increase
pauperism and crime. It renders a large force of peace
officers essential, and it adds to the expense of the
courts and of nearly all branches of civil administration.
Justice Bradley, of the United States Supreme Court, says:
Licenses may be properly required in the pursuit of
many professions and avocations, which require peculiar
skill and training or supervision for the public welfare.
The profession or avocation is open to all alike who will
prepare themselves with the requisite qualifications or
give the requisite security for preserving public order.
This is in harmony with the general proposition that the
ordinary pursuits of life, forming the greater per cent of
the industrial pursuits, are and ought to be free and
open to all, subject only to such general regulations,
applying equally to all, as the general good may demand.
All such regulations are entirely competent for the
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT 289
legislature to make and are in no sense an abridgment
of the equal rights of citizens. But a license to do that
which is odious and against common right is necessarily
an outrage upon the equal rights of citizens.
14. What method did Jesus employ in the following:
Ye are the salt of the earth; but if the salt have lost his
savour, wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for
nothing but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men.
Behold the fowls of the air; for they sow not, neither do they
reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth
them. Are ye not much better than they?
And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies
of the field; how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin;
And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon in all his glory was
not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the
grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the
oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith?
Or what man is there of you, whom if his son ask bread, will
he give him a stone? Or if he ask a fish, will he give him a
serpent? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts
unto your children, how much more shall your Father which is
in heaven give good things to them that ask him?
15. Make five original syllogisms^ on the following
models:
Major Premise: He who administers arsenic gives poison.
* For those who would make a further atudy of the syllogism the following
rules are given: 1. In a syllogism there should be only three terms. 2. Of
these three only one can be the middle term. 3. One premise must be aflSrma-
tive. 4. The conclusion must be negative if either premise is negative. 5. To
prove a negative, one of the premises must be negative.
Summary of Regulating Principles: 1. Terms which agree with the same
thing agree with each other; and when only one of two terms agrees with a
third term, the two terms disagree with each other. 2. " Whatever is affirmed
of a^class may be affirmed of all the members of that class," and "Whatever
is^denied of a class may be denied of all the members of that class."
290 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Minor Premise: The prisoner administered arsenic to the
victim.
Conclusion: Therefore the prisoner is a poisoner.
Major Premise: All dogs are quadrupeds.
Minor Premise: This animal is a biped.
Conclusion: Therefore this animal is not a dog.
16. Prepare either the positive or the negative side of
the following question for debate: The recall 0] judges
shotdd be adopted as a national principle.
17. Is this question debatable? Benedict Arnold was
a gentleman. Give reasons for your answer.
18. Criticise any street or dinner- table argument you
have heard recently.
19. Test the reasoning of any of the speeches given in
this volume.
20. Make a short speech arguing in favor of instruc-
tion in public speaking in the public evening schools.
21. (a) Clip a newspaper editorial in which the reason-
ing is weak, (b) Criticise it. (c) Correct it.
22. Make a list of three subjects for debate, selected
from the monthly magazines.
23. Do the same from the newspapers.
24. Choosing your own question and side, prepare a
brief suitable for a ten-minute debating argument. The
following models of briefs may help you:
DEBATE
Resolved: That armed intervention is not justifiable on
the part of any nation to collect, in behalf of private indi-
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT 39I
vidualSf financial claims against any American nation}
Brief of Affirmative Argument
First speaker — Chafee
Armed intervention for collection of private claims from
any American nation is not justifiable, for
1. It is wrong in principle ^ because
{a) It violates the fundamental principles of
international law for a very slight cause
{b) It is contrary to the proper function of the
State, and
{c) It is contrary to justice, since claims are
exaggerated.
Second speaker — Hurley
2. // is disastrous in its results y because
(a) It incurs danger of grave international com-
plications
{h) It tends to increase the burden of debt in the
South American republics
(c) It encourages a waste of the world's capital,
and
{d) It disturbs peace and stability in South
America.
Third speaker — Bruce
3. It is unnecessary to collect in this way, because
(a) Peaceful methods have succeeded
(b) If these should fail, claims should be settled
by The Hague Tribunal
1 All the speakers were from Brown University. The affirmative briefs were
used in debate with the Dartmouth College team, and the negative briefs were
used in debate with the Williams College team. From The Speaker, by per-
mission.
193 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
(c) The fault has always been with European
States when force has been used, and
{d) In any case, force should not be used,
for it counteracts the movement towards
peace.
Brief of Negative Argument
First speaker — Branch
Armed intervention for the collection of private financial
claims against some American States is justifiable, for
1. When other means of collection have failed, armed
intervention against any nation is essentially
proper J because
(o) Justice should always be secured
{h) Non-enforcement of payment puts a pre-
mium on dishonesty
(c) Intervention for this purpose is sanctioned
by the best international authority
id) Danger of undue collection is slight and can
be avoided entirely by submission of claims
to The Hague Tribunal before intervening
Second speaker — Stone
2. Armed intervention is necessary to secure justice in
tropical America, for
(a) The governments of this section constantly
repudiate just debts
{b) They insist that the final decision about
INFLUENCING BY ARGUMENT 293
claims shall rest with their own corrupt
courts
(c) They refuse to arbitrate sometimes.
Third speaker — Dennett
3. Armed intervention is beneficial in its results ^
because
(o) It inspires responsibility
(6) In administering custom houses it removes
temptation to revolutions
(c) It gives confidence to desirable capital.
Among others, the following books were used in the
preparation of the arguments:
N. "The Monroe Doctrine,'' by T. B. Edgington. Chap-
ters 22-28.
"Digest of International Law," by J. B. Moore.
Report of Penfield of proceedings before Hague Tribu-
nal in 1903.
"Statesman's Year Book" (for statistics).
A. Minister Drago's appeal to the United States, in For-
eign Relations of United States, 1903.
President Roosevelt's Message, 1905, pp. 33-37.
And articles in the following magazines (among many
others) :
"Journal of Political Economy," December, 1906.
"Atlantic Monthly," October, 1906.
"North American Review," Vol. 183, p. 602.
All of these contain material valuable for both sides,
except those marked "N" and "A," which are useful only
for the negative and affirmative, respectively.
294 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Note: — Practise in debating is most helpful to the
public speaker, but if possible each debate should be
under the supervision of some person whose word will be
respected, so that the debaters might show regard for
courtesy, accuracy, effective reasoning, and the necessity
for careful preparation. The Appendix contains a list
of questions for debate.
25. Are the following points well considered?
The Inheritance Tax is Not a Good Soctal Reform
Measure
A. Does not strike at the root of the evil
1. Fortunes not a menace in themselves
A fortune of $500,000 may be a greater social
evil than one of $500,000,000
2. Danger of wealth depends on its wrong accumulation
and use
3. Inheritance tax will not prevent rebateSj monopoly^
discrimination^ bribery y etc.
4. Laws aimed at unjust accumulation and use of
wealth furnish the true remedy,
B. It would be evaded
1. Law rates are evaded
2. Rate mtist be high to result in distribution of great
fortunes,
26. Class exercises: Mock Trial for (a) some serious
political offense; (6) a burlesque offense.
CHAPTER XXIV
INFLUENCING BY PERSUASION
She hath prosperous art
When she will play with reason and discourse,
And well she can persuade.
— Shakespeare, Measure for Measure.
Him we call an artist who shall play on an assembly of men
as a master on the keys of a piano, — who seeing the people
furious, shall soften and compose them, shall draw them, when
he will, to laughter and to tears. Bring him to his audience, and,
be they who they may, — coarse or refined, pleased or displeased,
sulky or savage, with their opinions in the keeping of a confessor
or with their opinions in their bank safes, — he will have them
pleased and humored as he chooses; and they shall carry and
execute what he bids them.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essay on Eloquence.
More good and more ill have been effected by persua-
sion than by any other form of speech. It is an attempt
to influence by means of appeal to some particular interesi
held important by the hearer. Its motive may be high or
low fair or unfair, honest or dishonest, calm or passionate,
and hence its scope is unparalleled in public speaking.
This "instilment of conviction," to use Matthew
Arnold's expression, is naturally a complex process in that
it usually includes argumentation and often employs
suggestion, as the next chapter will illustrate. In fact,
there is little public speaking worthy of the name that is
not in some part persuasive, for men rarely speak solely
296 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
C
to alter men's opinions — the ulterior purpose is almost
always action.
The nature of persuasion is not solely intellectual, but
is largely emotional. It uses every principle of public
speaking, and every "form of discourse," to use a rhetori-
cian's expression, but argument supplemented by special
appeal is its peculiar quality. This we may best see by
examining
The Methods of Persuasion
High-minded speakers often seek to move their hearers
to action by an appeal to their highest motives, such as love
of liberty. Senator Hoar, in pleading for action on the
Philippine question, used this method:
What has been the practical statesmanship which comes from
your ideals and your sentimentalities? You have wasted nearly
six hundred millions of treasure. You have sacrificed nearly ten
thousand American lives — the flower of our youth. You have
devastated provinces. You have slain uncounted thousands of
the people you desire to benefit. You have established recon-
centration camps. Your generals are coming home from their
harvest bringing sheaves with them, in the shape of other thou-
sands of sick and wounded and insane to drag out miserable lives,
wrecked in body and mind. You make the American flag in the
eyes of a numerous people the emblem of sacrilege in Christian
churches, and of the burning of human dwellings, and of the
horror of the water torture. Your practical statesmanship which
disdains to take George Washington and Abraham Lincoln or
the soldiers of the Revolution or of the Civil War as models, has
looked in some cases to Spain for your example. I believe — nay,
I know — that in general our officers and soldiers are humane.
But in some cases they have carried on your warfare with a mix-
ture of American ingenuity and Castilian cruelty.
Your practical statesmanship has succeeded in converting a
INFLUENCING BY PERSUASION 297
people who three years ago were ready to kiss the hem of the
garment of the Am.erican and to welcome him as a liberator, who
thronged after your men, when they landed on those islands,
with benediction and gratitude, into sullen and irreconciliable
enemies, possessed of a hatred which centuries cannot eradicate.
Mr. President, this is the eternal law of human nature. You
may struggle against it, you may try to escape it, you may per-
suade yourself that your intentions are benevolent, that your
yoke will be easy and your burden will be light, but it will assert
itself again. Goyernment without the consent of the governed —
authority which heaven never gave — can only be supported by
means which heaven never can sanction.
The American people have got this one question to answer.
They may answer it now; they can take ten years, or twenty
years, or a generation, or a century to think of it. But it will not
down. They must answer it in the end: Can you lawfully buy
with money, or get by brute force of arms, the right to hold in
subjugation an unwilling people, and to impose on them such
constitution as you, and not they, think best for them?
Senator Hoar then went on to make another sort of
appeal — the appeal to fact and experience:
We have answered this question a good many times in the
past. The fathers answered it in 1776, and founded the Republic
upon their answer, which has been the comer-stone. John Quincy
Adams and James Monroe answered it again in the Monroe
Doctrine, which John Quincy Adams declared was only the doc-
trine of the consent of the governed. The Republican party
answered it when it took possession of the force of government
at the beginning of the most brilliant period in all legislative
history. Abraham Lincoln answered it when, on that fatal
journey to Washington in 1861, he announced that as the doctrine
of his political creed, and declared, with prophetic vision, that
he was ready to be assassinated for it if need be. You answered
it again yourselves when you said that Cuba, who had no more
title than the people of the Philippine Islands had to their inde-
pendence, of right ought to be free and independent.
— George F. Hoar.
298 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
'Appeal to the things that man holds dear is another
potent form of persuasion.
Joseph Story, in his great Salem speech (1828) used this
method most dramatically:
I call upon you, fathers, by the shades of your ancestors — by
the dear ashes which repose in this precious soil — by all you are,
and all you hope to be — resist every object of disunion, resist
every encroachment upon your liberties, resist every attempt to
fetter your consciences, or smother your public schools, or
extinguish your system of public instruction.
I call upon you, mothers, by that which never fails in woman,
the love of your offspring; teach them, as they climb your knees,
or lean on your bosoms, the blessings of liberty. Swear them at
the altar, as with their baptismal vows, to be true to their country,
and never to forget or forsake her.
I call upon you, young men, to remember whose sons you are;
whose inheritance you possess. Life can never be too short,
which brings nothing but disgrace and oppression. Death never
comes too soon, if necessary in defence of the liberties of your
country.
I call upon you, old men, for your counsels, and your prayers,
and your benedictions. May not your gray hairs go down in
sorrow to the grave, with the recollection that you have lived in
vain. May not your last sun sink in the west upon a nation of
slaves.
No; I read in the destiny of my country far better hopes, far
brighter visions. We, who are now assembled here, must soon
be gathered to the congregation of other days. The time of our
departure is at hand, to make way for our children upon the
theatre of life. May God speed them and theirs. May he who,
at the distance of another century, shall stand here to celebrate
this day, still look round upon a free, happy, and virtuous people.
May he have reason to exult as we do. May he, with all the
enthusiasm of truth as well as of poetry, exclaim, that here is
still his country. — Joseph Story.
The appeal to prejudice is effective — though not often,
INFLUENCING BY PERSUASION 299
if ever, justifiable; yet so long as special pleading endures
this sort of persuasion will be resorted to. Rudyard
Kipling uses this method — as have many others on both
sides — in discussing the great European war. Mingled
with the appeal to prejudice, Mr. Kipling uses the appeal
to self-interest; though not the highest, it is a powerful
motive in all our lives. Notice how at the last the
pleader sweeps on to the highest ground he can take.
This is a notable example of progressive appeal, beginning
with a low motive and ending with a high one in such a
way as to carry all the force of prejudice yet gain all the
value of patriotic fervor.
Through no fault nor wish of ours we are at war with Germany,
the power which owes its existence to three well-thought-out
wars; the power which, for the last twenty years, has devoted
itself to organizing and preparing for this war; the power which
is now fighting to conquer the civilized world.
For the last two generations the Germans in their books,
lectures, speeches and schools have been carefully taught that
nothing less than this world-conquest was the object of their
preparations and their sacrifices. They have prepared carefully
and sacrificed greatly.
We must have men and men and men, if we, with our allies,
are to check the onrush of organized barbarism.
Have no illusions. We are dealing with a strong and mag-
nificently equipped enemy, whose avowed aim is our complete
destruction. The violation of Belgium, the attack on France
and the defense against Russia, are only steps by the way. The
German's real objective, as she always has told us, is England,
and England's wealth, trade and worldwide possessions.
If you assume, for an instant, that the attack will be successful,
England will not be reduced, as some people say, to the rank of
a second rate power, but we shall cease to exist as a nation. We
shall become an outlying province of Germany, to be adminis-
300 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
tered with that severity German safety and interest require.
We are against such a fate. We enter into a new life in which
all the facts of war that we had put behind or forgotten for the
last hundred years, have returned to the front and test us as
they tested our fathers. It will be a long and a hard road, beset
with difficulties and discouragements, but we tread it together
and we will tread it together to the end.
Our petty social divisions and barriers have been swept away
at the outset of our mighty struggle. All the interests of our life
of six weeks ago are dead. We have but one interest now, and
that touches the naked heart of every man in this island and in
the empire.
If we are to win the right for ourselves and for freedom to
exist on earth, every man must offer himself for that service and
that sacrifice.
/ From these examples it will be seen that the particular
/way in which the speakers appealed to their hearers was
I by coming close home to their interests^ and by themselves
\ showing emotion — two very important principles which
you must keep constantly in mind.
To accomplish the former requires a deep knowledge of
human motive in general and an understanding of the
particular audience addressed. What are the motives
that arouse men to action? Think of them earnestly, set
them down on the tablets of your mind, study how to
appeal to them worthily. Then, what motives would be
likely to appeal to your hearers? What are their ideals and
interests in life? A mistake in your estimate may cost
you your case. To appeal to pride in appearance would
make one set of men merely laugh — to try to arouse
sympathy for the Jews in Palestine would be wasted effort
among others. Study your audience, feel your way, and
INFLUENCING BY PERSUASION 3OI
when you have once raised a spark, fan it into a flame by
every honest resource you possess.
The larger your audience the more sure you are to find
a universal basis of appeal. A small audience of bachelor's
will not grow excited over the importance of furniture
insurance; most men can be roused to the defense of the
freedom of the press.
Patent medicine advertisement usually begins by talking
about your pains — they begin on your interests. If they
first discussed the size and rating of their establishment,
or the efficacy of their remedy, you would never read the
"ad." If they can make you think you have nervous
troubles you will even plead for a remedy — they will not
have to try to sell it.
The patent medicine men are pleading — asking you to
invest your money in their commodity — yet they do not
appear to be doing so. They get over on your side of the
fence and arouse a desire for their nostrums by appealing
to your own interests.
Recently a book-salesman entered an attorney's office
in New York and inquired : "Do you want to buy a book?"
Had the lawyer wanted a book he would probably have
bought one without waiting for a book-salesman to call.
The solicitor made the same mistake as the representative
who made his approach with: " I want to sell you a sewing
machine." They both talked only in terms of their own
interests.
The successful pleader must convert his arguments into
terms of his hearers' advantage. Mankind are still selfish.
They are interested in what will serve them. Expunge
302 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
from your address your own personal concern and present
your appeal in terms of the general good, and to do this
you need not be insincere, for you had better not plead
any cause that is not for the hearers' good. Notice how
Senator Thurston in his plea for intervention in Cuba and
Mr. Bryan in his "Cross of Gold" speech constituted
themselves the apostles of humanity.
Exhortation is a highly impassioned form of appeal,
frequently used by the pulpit in efforts to arouse men to a
sense of duty and induce them to decide their personal
courses, and by counsel in seeking to influence a jury. The
great preachers, like the great jury-lawyers, have always
been masters of persuasion.
Notice the difference among these fovu: exhortations,
and analyze the motives appealed to:
Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slay! Let not
a traitor live! — Shakespeare, Julius Ccesar.
Strike — till the last armed foe expires,
Strike — for your altars and your fires,
Strike — for the green graves of your sires,
God — and your native land !
— Fitz-Greene Halleck, Marco Bozzaris.
Believe, gentlemen, if it were not for those children, he would
not come here to-day to seek such remuneration; if it were not
that, by your verdict, you may prevent those little innocent
defrauded wretches from becoming wandering beggars, as well
as orphans on the face of this earth. Oh, I know I need not ask
this verdict from your mercy; I need not extort it from your
compassion; I will receive it from your justice. I do conjure
you, not as fathers, but as husbands: — not as husbands, but as
citizens: — not as citizens, but as men: — not as men, but as
INFLUENCING BY PERSUASION 3O3
Christians: — by all your obligations, public, private, moral, and
religious; by the hearth profaned; by the home desolated; by
the canons of the living God foiilly spurned; — save, oh! save
your firesides from the contagion, your country from the crime,
and perhaps thousands, yet unborn, from the shame, and sin,
and sorrow of this example !
— Charles Phillips, Appeal to the jury in behalf of Guthrie.
So I appeal from the men in silken hose who danced to music
made by slaves and called it freedom, from the men in bell-crown
hats who led Hester Prynne to her shame and called it religion,
to that Americanism which reaches forth its arms to smite wrong
with reason and truth, secure in the power of both. I appeal
from the patriarchs of New England to the poets of New Eng-
land; from Endicott to Lowell; from Winthrop to Longfellow;
from Norton to Holmes; and I appeal in the name and by the
rights of that common citizenship — of that common origin, back
of both the Puritan and the Cavalier, to which all of us owe our
being. Let the dead past, consecrated by the blood of its martyrs,
not by its savage hatreds, darkened alike by kingcraft and priest-
craft— ^let the dead past bury its dead. Let the present and the
future ring with the song of the singers. Blessed be the lessons
they teach, the laws they make. Blessed be the eye to see, the
light to reveal. Blessed be tolerance, sitting ever on the right
hand of God to guide the way with loving word, as blessed be all
that brings us nearer the goal of true religion, true republicanism,
and true patriotism, distrust of watchwords and labels, shams
and heroes, belief in our country and ourselves. It was not Cotton
Mather, but John Greenleaf Whittier, who cried :
Dear God and Father of us all.
Forgive our faith in cruel lies.
Forgive the blindness that denies.
Cast down our idols — overturn
Our Bloody altars — make us see
Thyself in Thy humanity !
— Henry Watterson, Puritan and Cavalier.
304 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Goethe, on being reproached for not having written war
songs against the French, replied, "In my poetry I have
never shammed. How could I have written songs of hate
without hatred? " Neither is it possible to plead with full
efficiency for a cause for which you do not feel deeply.
Feeling is contagious as belief is contagious. The speaker
who pleads with real feeling for his own convictions will
instill his feelings into his listeners. Sincerity, force,
enthusiasm, and above all, feeling — these are the qualities
that move multitudes and make appeals irresistible. They
are of far greater importance than technical principles of
delivery, grace of gesture, or polished enunciation — im-
portant as all these elements must doubtless be considered.
Base your appeal on reason, but do not end in the base-
ment— let the building rise, full of deep emotion and noble
persuasion.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
I. (a) What elements of appeal do you find in the fol-
lowing? (b) Is it too florid? (c) Is this style equally
powerful today? (d) Are the sentences too long and
involved for clearness and force?
Oh, gentlemen, am I this day only the counsel of my client?
No, no; I am the advocate of humanity — of yourselves — your
homes — your wives — your families — your little children. I am
glad that this case exhibits such atrocity; unmarked as it is
by any mitigatory feature, it may stop the frightful advance of
this calamity; it will be met now, and marked with vengeance.
If it be not, farewell to the virtues of your country; farewell to
all confidence between man and man; farewell to that unsuspi-
cious and reciprocal tenderness, without which marriage is but
INFLUENCING BY PERSUASION 30$
a consecrated curse. If oaths are to be violated, laws disregarded,
friendship betrayed, humanity trampled, national and individual
honor stained, and if a jury of fathers and of husbands will
give such miscreancy a passport to their homes, and wives, and
daughters, — farewell to all that yet remains of Ireland! But I
will not cast such a doubt upon the character of my country.
Against the sneer of the foe, and the skepticism of the foreigner,
I will still point to the domestic virtues, that no perfidy could
barter, and no bribery can purchase, that with a Roman usage,
at once embellish and consecrate households, giving to the
society of the hearth all the purity of the altar; that lingering
alike in the palace and the cottage, are still to be found scattered
over this land — the relic of what she was — the source perhaps
of what she may be — the lone, the stately, and magnificent
memorials, that rearing their majesty amid surrounding ruins,
serve at once as the landmarks of the departed glory, and the
models by which the future may be erected.
Preserve those virtues with a vestal fidelity; mark this day,
by your verdict, your horror of their profanation; and believe
me, when the hand which records that verdict shall be dust, and
the tongue that asks it, traceless in the grave, many a happy
home will bless its consequences, and many a mother teach her
little child to hate the impious treason of adultery.
— Charles Phillips.
2. Analyze and criticise the forms of appeal used in
the selections from Hoar, Story, and Kipling.
3. What is the type of persuasion used by Senator
Thurston (page 50)?
4. Cite two examples each, from selections in this
volume, in which speakers sought to be persuasive by
securing the hearers' (a) sympathy for themselves; (b)
sympathy with their subjects; (c) self-pity.
5. Make a short address using persuasion.
306 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
6. What other methods of persuasion than those here
mentioned can you name?
7. Is it easier to persuade men to change their course
of conduct than to persuade them to continue in a given
course? Give examples to support your behef.
8. In how far are we justified in making an appeal to
self-interest in order to lead men to adopt a given course?
9. Does the merit of the course have any bearing on
the merit of the methods used?
10. Illustrate an unworthy method of using persua-
sion.
11. Deliver a short speech on the value of skill in per-
suasion.
12. Does effective persuasion always produce con-
viction?
13. Does conviction always result in action?
14. Is|it fair for counsel to appeal to the emotions of
a jury in a murder trial?
15. Ought the judge use persuasion in making his
charge?
16. Say how self-consciousness may hinder the power
of persuasion in a speaker.
17. Is emotion without words ever persuasive? If so,
illustrate.
18. Might gestures without words be persuasive? If
so, illustrate.
19. Has posture in a speaker anything to do with per-
suasion? Discuss.
20. Has voice? Discuss.
21. Has manner? Discuss.
INFLUENCING BY PERSUASION 307
22. What effect does personal magnetism have in pro-
ducing conviction?
23. Discuss the relation of persuasion to (a) descrip-
tion; (b) narration; (c) exposition; (d) pure reason.
24. What is the effect of over-persuasion?
25. Make a short speech on the ejffect of the constant
use of persuasion on the sincerity of the speaker himself.
26. Show by example how a general statement is not
as persuasive as a concrete example illustrating the point
being discussed.
27. Show by example how brevity is of value in per-
suasion.
28. Discuss the importance of avoiding an antagonistic
attitude in persuasion.
29. What is the most persuasive passage you have
found in the selections of this volume. On what do you
base your decision?
30. Cite a persuasive passage from some other source.
Read or recite it aloud.
31. Make a list of the emotional bases of appeal,
grading them from low to high, according to your estimate.
32. Would circumstances make any difference in such
grading? If so, give examples.
33. Deliver a short, passionate appeal to a jury, plead-
ing for justice to a poor widow.
34. Deliver a short appeal to men to give up some evil
way.
35. Criticise the structure of the sentence beginning
with the last line of page 296.
CHAPTER XXV
INFLUENCING THE CROWD
Success in business, in the last analysis, turns upon touching
the imagination of crowds. The reason that preachers in this
present generation are less successful in getting people to want
goodness than business men are in getting them to want motor-
cars, hats, and pianolas, is that business men as a class are more
close and desperate students of human nature, and have boned
down harder to the art of touching the imaginations of the
crowds. — Gerald Stanley Lee, Crowds.
In the early part of July, 19 14, a collection of French-
men in Paris, or Germans in Berlin, was not a crowd in a
psychological sense. Each individual had his own special
interests and needs, and there was no powerful common
idea to unify them. A group then represented only a
collection of individuals. A month later, any collection
of Frenchmen or Germans formed a crowd: Patriotism,
hate, a conmion fear, a pervasive grief, had unified the
individuals.
The psychology of the crowd is far different from the
psychology of the personal members that compose it. The
crowd is a distinct entity. Individuals restrain and subdue
many of their impulses at the dictates of reason. The
crowd never reasons. It only feels. As persons there is a
sense of responsibility attached to our actions which
checks many of our incitements, but the sense of responsi-
bility is lost in the crowd because of its numbers. The
crowd is exceedingly suggestible and will act upon the
INFLUENCING THE CROWD 309
wildest and most extreme ideas. The crowd-mind is
primitive and will cheer plans and perform actions which
its members would utterly repudiate.
A mob is only a highly-wrought crowd. Ruskin's
description is fitting: " You can talk a mob into anything;
its feelings may be — usually are — on the whole, generous
and right, but it has no foundation for them, no hold of
them. You may tease or tickle it into anything at your
pleasure. It thinks by infection, for the most part, catch-
ing an opinion like a cold, and there is nothing so little
that it will not roar itself wild about, when the fit is on,
nothing so great but it will forget in an hour when the fit
is past.^"
History will show us how the crowd-mind works. The
medieval mind was not given to reasoning; the medieval
man attached great weight to the utterance of authority;
his religion touched chiefly the emotions. These condi-
tions provided a rich soil for the propagation of the crowd-
mind when, in the eleventh century, flagellation, a volun-
tary self-scourging, was preached by the monks. Sub-
stituting flagellation for reciting penetintial psalms was
advocated by the reformers. A scale was drawn up,
making one thousand strokes equivalent to ten psalms,
or fifteen thousand to the entire psalter. This craze
spread by leaps — and crowds. Flagellant fraternities
sprang up. Priests carrying banners led through the
streets great processions reciting prayers and whipping
their bloody bodies with leathern thongs fitted with four
iron points. Pope Clement denounced this practise and
1 Sesame and Lilies.
3IO THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
several of the leaders of these processions had to be
burned at the stake before the frenzy could be uprooted.
All western and central Europe was turned into a crowd
by the preaching of the crusaders, and millions of the
followers of the Prince of Peace rushed to the Holy Land
to kill the heathen. Even the children started on a cru-
.sade against the Saracens. The mob-spirit was so strong
that home affections and persuasion could not pre-
vail against it and thousands of mere babes died in
their attempts to reach and redeem the Sacred
Sepulchre.
In the early part of the eighteenth century the South
Sea Company was formed in England. Britain became a
speculative crowd. Stock in the South Sea Company rose
from 1283^ points in January to 550 in May, and scored
1,000 in July. Five million shares were sold at this
premium. Speculation ran riot. Hundreds of companies
were organized. One was formed " for a wheel of perpetual
motion." Another never troubled to give any reason at
all for taking the cash of its subscribers — it merely an-
nounced that it was organized "for a design which will
hereafter be promulgated." Owners began to sell, the
mob caught the suggestion, a panic ensued, the South
Sea Company stock fell 800 points in a few days, and
more than a biUion dollars evaporated in this era of
frenzied speculation.
The burning of the witches at Salem, the Klondike
gold craze, and the forty-eight people who were killed by
mobs in the United States in 1913, are examples familiar
to us in America.
INFLUENCING THE CROWD 3 II
The Crowd Must Have a Leader '
The leader of the crowd or mob is its determining factor.
He becomes self-hynoptized with the idea that unifies
its members, his enthusiasm is contagious — and so is
theirs. The crowd acts as he suggests. The great mass of
people do not have any very sharply-drawn conclusions
on any subject outside of their own little spheres, but
when they become a crowd they are perfectly willing to
accept ready-made, hand-me-down opinions. They will
follow a leader at all costs — in labor troubles they often
follow a leader in preference to obeying their government,
in war they will throw self-preservation to the bushes and
follow a leader in the face of guns that fire fourteen times
a second. The mob becomes shorn of will-power and
blindly obedient to its dictator. The Russian Government,
recognizing the menace of the crowd-mind to its autocracy,
formerly prohibited public gatherings. History is full of
similar instances.
How the Crowd is Created
Today the crowd is as real a factor in our socialized life
as are magnates and monopolies. It is too complex a
problem merely to damn or praise it — it must be reckoned
with, and mastered. The present problem is how to get
the most and the best out of the crowd-spirit, and the
public speaker finds this to be peculiarly his own question.
His influence is multiplied if he can only transmute his
audience into a crowd. His affirmations must be their
conclusions.
312 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
This can be accomplished by unifying the minds and
needs of the audience and arousing their emotions. Their
feelings, not their reason, must be played upon — it is '*up
to" him to do this nobly. Argument has its place on the
platform, but even its potencies must subserve the speak-
er's plan of attack to win possession of his audience.
Reread the chapter on "Feeling and Enthusiasm." It
is impossible to make an audience a crowd without appeal-
ing to their emotions. Can you imagine the average group
becoming a crowd while hearing a lecture on Dry Fly
Fishing, or on Egyptian Art? On the other hand, it would
not have required world-famous eloquence to have turned
any audience in Ulster, in 19 14, into a crowd by discussing
the Home Rule Act. The crowd-spirit depends largely
on the subject used to fuse their individualities into one
glowing whole.
Note how Antony played upon the feelings of his hearers
in the famous funeral oration given by Shakespeare in
"Julius Caesar." From murmuring units the men became
a unit — a mob.
ANTONY'S ORATION OVER CESAR'S BODY
Friends, Romans, countrymen! Lend me your ears;
I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him.
The evil that men do lives after them ;
The good is oft interred with their bones:
So let it be with Caesar! The Noble Brutus
Hath told you Caesar was ambitious.
If it were so, it was a grievous fault,
And grievously hath Caesar answered it.
Here, under leave of Brutus, and the rest —
For Brutus is an honorable man,
INFLUENCING THE CROWD $1$
So are they all, all honorable men —
Come I to speak in Caesar's funeral.
He was my friend, faithful and just to me:
But Brutus says he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
He hath brought many captives home to Rome,
Whose ransoms did the general cofifers fill:
Did this in Caesar seem ambitious?
When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept;
Ambition should be made of sterner stiiff :
Yet Brutus says, he was ambitious;
And Brutus is an honorable man.
You all did see, that, on the Lupercal,
I thrice presented him a kingly crown,
Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition?
Yet Brutus says he was ambitious;
And sure, he is an honorable man.
I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke,
But here I am to speak what I do know.
You all did love him once, not without cause;
What cause withholds you then to mourn for him?
Oh, judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts,
And men have lost their reason! — Bear with me;
My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar,
And I must pause till it come back to me. [Weeps.
1 Plebeian. Methinks there is much reason in his sayings.
2 Pie. If thou consider rightly of the matter,
Caesar has had great wrong.
3 Pie. Has he, masters?
I fear there will a worse come in his place.
4 Pie. Mark'd ye his words? He would not take the crown;
Therefore, 'tis certain, he was not ambitious.
1 Pie. If it be found so, some will dear abide it.
2 Pie. Poor soul, his eyes are red as fire with weeping.
3 Pie. There's not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
4 Pie. Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
Ant. But yesterday, the word of Cassar might
Have stood against the world: now lies he there,
And none so poor to do him reverence.
314 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Oh, masters! if I were dispos'd to stir
Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage,
I should do Brutus wrong, and Cassius wrong.
Who, you all know, are honorable men.
I will not do them wrong; I rather choose
To wrong the dead, to wrong myself, and you.
Than I will wrong such honorable men.
But here's a parchment, with the seal of Caesar;
I found it in his closet; 'tis his will:
Let but the commons hear this testament —
Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read —
And they would go and kiss dead Caesar's wounds,
And dip their napkins in his sacred blood;
Yea, beg a hair of him for memory.
And, dying, mention it within their wills,
Bequeathing it as a rich legacy
Unto their issue.
4 Pie. We'll hear the will: Read it, Mark Antony.
All. The will! the will! we will hear Caesar's will.
Ant. Have patience, gentle friends: I must not read it;
It is not meet you know how Caesar lov'd you.
You are not wood, you are not stones, but men;
And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar,
It will inflame you, it will make you mad:
'Tis good you know not that you are his heirs;
For if you should, oh, what would come of it!
4 Pie. Read the will; we'll hear it, Antony!
You shall read us the will ! Caesar's will !
Ant. Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile?
I have o'ershot myself, to tell you of it.
I fear I wrong the honorable men
Whose daggers have stab'd Caesar; I do fear it.
4 Pie. They were traitors: Honorable men!
All. The will! the testament!
2 Pie. They were villains, murtherers! The will! Read the will!
Ant. You will compel me then to read the will?
Then, make a ring about the corpse of Caesar,
And let me shew you him that made the will.
Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?
INFLUENCING THE CROWD 31$
All. Come down.
2 Pie. Descend. [He comes down from the Rostrum.
3 Pie. You shall have leave.
4 Pie. A ring; stand round.
1 Pie. Stand from the hearse, stand from the body.
2 Pie. Room for Antony! — most noble Antony!
Ant. Nay, press not so upon me; stand far off.
All. Stand back! room! bear back!
Ant. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now;
You all do know this mantle: I remember
The first time ever Caesar put it on;
'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent,
That day he overcame the Nervii.
Look, in this place, ran Cassius' dagger through:
See, what a rent the envious Casca made:
Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stab'd;
And as he pluck'd his cursed steel away,
Mark how the blood of Caesar follow'd it! —
As rushing out of doors, to be resolv'd
If Brutus so unkindly knock'd, or no;
For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar's angel:
Judge, O you Gods, how Caesar lov'd him!
This was the most unkindest cut of all !
For when the noble Caesar saw him stab,
Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms.
Quite vanquish'd him: then burst his mighty heart;
And in his mantle muffling up his face.
Even at the base of Pompey's statue.
Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell.
Oh what a fall was there, my countrymen !
Then I and you, and all of us, fell down.
Whilst bloody treason flourish'd over us.
Oh! now you weep; and I perceive you feel
The dint of pity; these are gracious drops.
Kind souls! what, weep you, when you but behold
Our Caesar's vesture wounded? Look you here!
Here is himself, mar'd, as you see, by traitors.
1 Pie. Oh, piteous spectacle!
2 Pie. Oh, noble Caesar!
3l6 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
3 Pie. Oh, woful day!
4 Pie. Oh, traitors, villains!
1 Pie. Oh, most bloody sight!
2 Pie. We will be reveng'd!
All. Revenge; about — seek — bum — fire — kill — slay! — Let not
a traitor live!
Ant. Stay, countrymen.
1 Pie. Peace there ! Hear the noble Antony.
2 Pie. We'll hear him, we'll follow him, we'll die with him.
Ant. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up
To such a sudden flood of mutiny:
They that have done this deed are honorable:
What private griefs they have, alas! I know not,
That made them do it; they are wise, and honorable,
And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you.
I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts;
I am no orator, as Brutus is;
But as you know me all, a plain blunt man.
That love my friend, and that they know full well
That gave me public leave to speak of him:
For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth,
Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech.
To stir men's blood. I only speak right on:
I tell you that which you yourselves do know;
Show your sweet Caesar's wounds, poor, poor, dumb mouths.
And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus,
And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony
Would ruffle up your spirits, and put a tongue
In every wound of Caesar, that should move
The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
All. We'll mutiny!
1 Pie. We'll burn the house of Brutus.
3 Pie. Away, then! Come, seek the conspirators.
Ant. Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
All. Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony.
Ant. Why, friends, you go to do you know not what.
Wherein hath Caesar thus deserv'd your loves?
Alas! you know not! — I must tell you then.
You have forgot the will I told you of.
INFLUENCING THE CROWD 317
Pie. Most true; — the will! — let's stay, and hear the will.
Ant. Here is the will, and under Csesar's seal.
To every Roman citizen he gives,
To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
2 Pie. Most noble Caesar! — we'll revenge his death.
3 Pie. O royal Caesar!
Ant. Hear me with patience.
All. Peace, ho!
Ant. Moreover, he hath left you all his walks,
His private arbours, and new-planted orchards,
On this side Tiber; he hath left them you.
And to your heirs forever, common pleasures.
To walk abroad, and recreate yourselves.
Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
1 Pie. Never, never! — Come, away, away!
We'll bum his body in the holy place.
And with the brands fire the traitors' houses.
Take up the body.
2 Pie. Go, fetch fire.
3 Pie. Pluck down benches.
4 Pie. Pluck down forms, windows, anything.
[Exeunt Citizens, with the body.
Ant. Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot.
Take thou what course thou wilt!
To unify single auditors into a crowd, express their
common needs, aspirations, dangers, and emotions, de-
liver your message so that the interests of one shall appear
to be the interests of all. The conviction of one man is
intensified in proportion as he finds others sharing
his belief — and feeling. Antony does not stop with telling
the Roman populace that Caesar fell — ^he makes the
tragedy universal:
Then I, and you, and all of us fell down,
Whilst bloody treason flourished over us.
Applause, generally a sign of feeling, helps to unify an
3l8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
audience. The nature of the crowd is illustrated by the
contagion of applause. Recently a throng in a New York
moving-picture and vaudeville house had been applauding
several songs, and when an advertisement for tailored
skirts was thrown on the screen some one started the
applause, and the crowd, like sheep, blindly imitated —
until someone saw the joke and laughed; then the crowd
again followed a leader and laughed at and applauded its
own stupidity.
Actors sometimes start applause for their lines by snap-
ping their fingers. Some one in the first few rows will mis-
take it for faint applause, and the whole theatre will chime
in.
An observant auditor will be interested in noticing
the various devices a monologist will use to get the first
round of laughter and applause. He works so hard be-
cause he knows an audience of units is an audience of
indifferent critics, but once get them to laughing together
and each single laugher sweeps a number of others with
him, until the whole theatre is aroar and the entertainer
has scored. These are meretricious schemes, to be sure,
and do not savor in the least of inspiration, but crowds
have not changed in their nature in a thousand years and
the one law holds for the greatest preacher and the pettiest
stump-speaker — you must fuse your audience or they will
not warm to your message. The devices of the great
orator may not be so obvious as those of the vaudeville
monologist, but the principle is the same: he tries to
strike some universal note that will have all his hearers
feeling alike at the same time.
INFLUENCING THE CROWD 319
The evangelist knows this when he has the soloist sing
some touching song just before the address. Or he will
have the entire congregation sing, and that is the psy-
chology of "Now everybody sing!" for he knows that they
who will not join in the song are as yet outside the crowd.
Many a time has the popular evangelist stopped in the
middle of his talk, when he felt that his hearers were units
instead of a molten mass (and a sensitive speaker can feel
that condition most depressingly) and suddenly demanded
that everyone arise and sing, or repeat aloud a familiar
passage, or read in unison; or perhaps he has subtly left
the thread of his discourse to tell a story that, from long
experience, he knew would not fail to bring his hearers to
a common feeling.
These things are important resources for the speaker,
and happy is he who uses them worthily and not as a
despicable charlatan. The difference between a dema-
gogue and a leader is not so much a matter of method as of
principle. Even the most dignified speaker must recog-
nize the eternal laws of human nature. You are by no
means urged to become a trickster on the platform — far
from it! — but don't kill your speech with dignity. To be
idly correct is as silly as to rant. Do neither, but appeal
to those world-old elements in your audience that have
been recognized by all great speakers from Demosthenes to
Sam Small, and see to it that you never debase your
powers by arousing your hearers unworthily.
It is as hard to kindle enthusiasm in a scattered audi-
ence as to build a fire with scattered sticks. An audience
to be converted into a crowd must be made to appear as
320 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
a crowd. This cannot be done when they are widely
scattered over a large seating space or when many empty
benches separate the speaker from his hearers. Have
your audience seated compactly. How many a preacher
has bemoaned the enormous edifice over which what would
normally be a large congregation has scattered in chilled
and chilling solitude Sunday after Sunday! Bishop
Brooks himself could not have inspired a congregation of
one thousand souls seated in the vastness of St. Peter's
at Rome. In that colossal sanctuary it is only on great
occasions which bring out the multitudes that the service
is before the high altar — at other times the smaller side-
chapels are used.
Universal ideas surcharged with feeling help to create
the crowd-atmosphere. Examples: liberty, character,
righteousness, courage, fraternity, altruism, country, and
national heroes. George Cohan was making psychology
practical and profitable when he introduced the flag and
flag-songs into his musical comedies. Cromwell's regi-
ments prayed before the battle and went into the fight
singing hymns. The French corps, singing the Marseil-
laise in 1 914, charged the Germans as one man. Such
unifying devices arouse the feelings, make soldiers fanati-
cal mobs — and, alas, more efl¢ murderers.
CHAPTER XXVI
RIDING THE WINGED HORSE
To think, and to feel, constitute the two grand divisions of
men of genius — the men of reasoning and the men of imagination.
— Isaac Disraeli, Literary Character of Men of Genius.
And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.
— Shakespeare, Midsummer- Night' s Dream.
It is common, among those who deal chiefly with life's
practicalities, to think of imagination as having little value
in comparison with direct thinking. They smile with
tolerance when Emerson says that "Science does not
know its debt to the imagination," for these are the words
of a speculative essayist, a philosopher, a poet. But
when Napoleon — the indomitable welder of empires — de-
clares that "The human race is governed by its imagina-
tion," the authoritative word commands their respect.
Be it remembered, the faculty of forming mental images
is as efficient a cog as may be found in the whole mind-
machine. True, it must fit into that other vital cog, pure
thought, but when it does so it may be questioned
which is the more productive of important results for the
happiness and well-being of man. This should become
more apparent as we go on.
322 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
I. WHAT IS IMAGINATION ?
Let us not seek for a definition, for a score of varying
ones may be found, but let us grasp this fact: By imagina-
^_^_y^ion we mean either the faculty or the process of forming
\j^mental images.
The subject-matter of imagination may be really ex-
istent in nature, or not at all real, or a combination of
both; it may be physical or spiritual, or both — the mental
image is at once the most lawless and the most law-abiding
child that has ever been born of the mind.
First of all, as its name suggests, the process of imagina-
tion— for we are thinking of it now as a process rather
than as a faculty — is memory at work. Therefore we
must consider it primarily as
I. Reproductive Imagination
We see or hear or feel or taste or smell something and
the sensation passes away. Yet we are conscious of a
greater or lesser ability to reproduce such feelings at will.
Two considerations, in general, will govern the vividness
of the image thus evoked — the strength of the original
impression, and the reproductive power of one mind as
compared with another. Yet every normal person will
be able to evoke images with some degree of clearness.
The fact that not all minds possess this imaging faculty
in anything like equal measure will have an important
bearing on the public speaker's study of this question.
No man who does not feel at least some poetic impulses
is likely to aspire seriously to be a poet, yet many whose
RIDING THE WINGED HORSE 323
imaging faculties are so dormant as to seem actually
dead do aspire to be public speakers. To all such we say
most earnestly: Awaken your image-making gift, for even
in the most coldly logical discourse it is sure to prove of
great service. It is important that you find out at once
just how full and how trustworthy is your imagination,
for it is capable of cultivation — as well as of abuse.
Francis Gal ton i says: "The French appear to possess
the visualizing faculty in a high degree. The peculiar
ability they show in pre-arranging ceremonials and f^tes
of all kinds and their undoubted genius for tactics and
strategy show that they are able to foresee effects
with unusual clearness. Their ingenuity in all technical
contrivances is an additional testimony in the same di-
rection, and so is their singular clearness of expression.
Their phrase figurez-vous, or picture to yourself, seems to
express their dominant mode of perception. Our equiva-
lent, of 'image,' is ambiguous."
But individuals differ in this respect just as markedly
as, for instance, the Dutch do from the French. And this
is true not only of those who are classified by their friends
as being respectively imaginative or unimaginative, but
of those whose gifts or habits are not well known.
Let us take for experiment six of the best-known t)^es
of imaging and see in practise how they arise in our own
minds.
By all odds the most common ty^t is, (a) the visual
image. Children who more readily recall things seen
than things heard are called by psychologists "eye-
^Inquiries into Human Faculty.
324 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
minded," and most of us are bent in this direction. Close
your eyes now and re-call — the word thus hyphenated
is more suggestive — the scene around this morning's
breakfast table. Possibly there was nothing striking in
the situation and the image is therefore not striking. Then
image any notable table scene in your experience — how
vividly it stands forth, because at the time you felt the
impression strongly. Just then you may not have been
conscious of how strongly the scene was laying hold upon
you, for often we are so intent upon what we see that we
give no particular thought to the fact that it is impressing
us. It may surprise you to learn how accurately you are
able to image a scene when a long time has elapsed be-
tween the conscious focussing of your attention on the
image and the time when you saw the original.
•-^(b) The aiiditory image is probably the next most
vivid of our recalled experiences. Here association is
potent to suggest similarities. Close out all the world
beside and listen to the peculiar wood-against-wood sound
of the sharp thunder among rocky mountains — the crash
of ball against ten-pins may suggest it. Or image (the
word is imperfect, for it seems to suggest only the eye)
the sound of tearing ropes when some precious weight
hangs in danger. Or recall the bay of a hound almost
upon you in pursuit — choose your own sound, and see
how pleasantly or terribly real it becomes when imaged
in your brain.
— - (c) The motor image is a close competitor with the
auditory for second place. Have you ever awakened in
the night, every muscle taut and striving, to feel your
RIDING THE WINGED HORSE 325
self straining against the opposing foot-ball line that held
like a stone-wall — or as firmly as the headboard of your-
bed? Or voluntarily recall the movement of the boat
when you cried inwardly, "It's all up with me!" The
perilous lurch of a train, the sudden sinking of an elevator,
or the unexpected toppling of a rocking-chair may serve
as further experiments.
(d) The gustatory image is common enough, as the idea
of eating lemons will testify. Sometimes the pleasur-
able recollection of a delightful dinner will cause the mouth
to water years afterward, or the ''image" of particularly
atrocious medicine will wrinkle the nose long after it
made one day in boyhood wretched.
' (e) The olfactory image is even more delicate. Some
there are who are affected to illness by the memory of
certain odors, while others experience the most delectable
sensations by the rise of pleasing olfactory images.
(f) The tactile image ^ to name no others, is well nigh
as potent. Do you shudder at the thought of velvet
rubbed by short-nailed finger tips? Or were you ever
" burned " by touching an ice-cold stove? Or, happier mem-
ory, can you still feel the touch of a well-loved absent hand?
Be it remembered that few of these images are present
in our minds except in combination — the sight and sound
of the crashing avalanche are one; so are the flash and
report of the huntman's gun that came so near "doing
for us."
Thus, imaging — especially conscious reproductive im-
agination— will become a valuable part of our mental
processes in proportion as we direct and control it.
326 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
1^. Productive Imagination
All of the foregoing examples, and doubtless also many
of the experiments you yourself may originate, are merely
reproductive. Pleasurable or horrific as these may be, they
are far less important than the images evoked by the pro-
ductive imagination — though that does not infer a separate
faculty.
Recall, again for experiment, some scene whose be-
ginning you once saw enacted on a street corner but
passed by before the denouement was ready to be disclosed.
Recall it all — that far the image is reproductive. But
what followed? Let your fantasy roam at pleasure — the
succeeding scenes are productive, for you have more or
less consciously invented the unreal on the basis of the
real.
And just here the fictionist, the poet, and the public
speaker will see the value of productive imagery. True,
the feet of the idol you build are on the ground, but its
head pierces the clouds, it is a son of both earth and heaven.
One fact it is important to note here: Imagery is a
valuable mental asset in proportion as it is controlled by
the higher intellectual power of pure reason. The un-
tutored child of nature thinks largely in images and there-
fore attaches to them undue importance. He readily
confuses the real with the unreal — to him they are of
like value. But the man of training readily distinguishes
the one from the other and evaluates each with some,
if not with perfect, justice.
So we see that unrestrained imaging may produce a
RIDING THE WINGED HORSE 327
rudderless steamer, while the trained faculty is the grace-
ful sloop, skimming the seas at her skipper's will, her
course steadied by the helm of reason and her lightsome
wings catching every air of heaven.
The game of chess, the war-lord's tactical plan, the
evolution of a geometrical theorem, the devising of a
great business campaign, the eUmination of waste in a
factory, the denouement of a powerful drama, the over-
coming of an economic obstacle, the scheme for a sublime
poem, and the convincing siege of an audience may — nay,
indeed must — each be conceived in an image and wrought
to reaUty according to the plans and specifications laid
upon the trestle board by some modern imaginative Hiram.
The farmer who would be content with the seed he pos-
sesses would have no harvest. Do not rest satisfied with
the ability to recall images, but cultivate your creative
imagination by building "what might be" upon the
foundation of "what is."
II. THE USES OF IMAGING IN PUBLIC SPEAKING
By this time you will have already made some general
application of these ideas to the art of the platform, but
to several specific uses we must now refer.
^ •'•"'^..^^ J. Imaging in Speech-Preparation
(a) Set the image of your atidience before you while you
prepare. Disappointment may lurk here, and you cannot
be forearmed for every emergency, but in the main you
must meet your audience before you actually do — image
328 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
its probable mood and attitude toward the occasion, the
theme, and the speaker.
(b) Conceive your speech as a whole while you are pre-
paring its parts, else can you not see — image — how its
parts shall be fitly framed together.
(c) Image the language you will use, so far as written
or extemporaneous speech may dictate. The habit of
imaging will give you choice of varied figures of speech,
for remember that an address without fresh comparisons
is like a garden without blooms. Do not be content with
the first hackneyed figure that comes flowing to your pen-
point, but dream on until the striking, the unusual, yet
the vividly real comparison points your thought like
steel does the arrow- tip.
Note the freshness and effectiveness of the following
description from the opening of O. Henry's story, "The
Harbinger."
Long before the springtide is felt in the dull bosom of the
yokel does the city man know that the grass-green goddess is
upon her throne. He sits at his breakfast eggs and toast, begirt
by stone walls, opens his morning paper and sees journalism leave
vernalism at the post.
For whereas Spring's couriers were once the evidence of our
finer senses, now the Associated Press does the trick.
The warble of the first robin in Hackensack, the stirring of
the maple sap in Bennington, the budding of the pussy willows
along the main street in Syracuse, the first chirp of the blue
bird, the swan song of the blue point, the annual tornado in
St. Louis, the plaint of the peach pessimist from Pompton, N. J.,
the regular visit of the tame wild goose with a broken leg to the
pond near Bilgewater Junction, the base attempt of the Drug
Trust to boost the price of quinine foiled in the House by Con-
gressman Jinks, the first tall poplar struck by lightning and the
RIDING THE WINGED HORSE 329
usual stunned picknickers who had taken refuge, the first crack
of the ice jamb in the Allegheny River, the finding of a violet
in its mossy bed by the correspondent at Round Comers — these
are the advanced signs of the burgeoning season that are wired
into the wise city, while the farmer sees nothing but winter upon
his dreary fields.
But these be mere externals. The true harbinger is the heart.
When Strephon seeks his Chloe and Mike his Maggie, then only
is Spring arrived and the newspaper report of the five foot rattler
killed in Squire Pettregrew's pasture confirmed.
A hackneyed writer would probably have said that the
newspaper told the city man about spring before the
farmer could see any evidence of it, but that the real
harbinger of spring was love and that "In the Spring a
young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love."
x"""^ 2. Imaging in Speech-Delivery
When once the passion of speech is on you and you are
"warmed up" — ^perhaps by striking till the iron is hot
so that you may not fail to strike when it is hot — your
mood will be one of vision.
Then (a) Re-image past emotion — of which more else-
where. The actor re-calls the old feelings every time he
renders his telling lines.
(b) Reconstruct in image the scenes you are to describe.
(c) Image the objects in nature whose tone you are
delineating, so that bearing and voice and movement
(gesture) will picture forth the whole convincingly.
Instead of merely stating the fact that whiskey ruins
homes, the temperance speaker paints a drunkard coming
home to abuse his wife and strike his children. It is much
330 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
more effective than telling the truth in abstract terms. To
depict the cruelness of war, do not assert the fact ab-
stractly— "War is cruel." Show the soldier, an arm swept
away by a bursting shell, lying on the battlefield pleading
for water; show the children with tear-stained faces
pressed against the window pane praying for their dead
father to return. Avoid general and prosaic terms. Paint
pictures. Evolve images for the imagination of your
audience to construct into pictures of their own.
III. HOW TO ACQUIRE THE IMAGING HABIT
You remember the American statesman who asserted
that "the way to resume is to resume"? The appHcation
is obvious. Beginning with the first simple analyses of
this chapter, test your own qualities of image-making.
One by one practise the several kinds of images; then add
— even invent — others in combination, for many images
come to us in complex form, like the combined noise and
shoving and hot odor of a cheering crowd.
After practising on reproductive imaging, turn to the
productive, beginning with the reproductive and adding
productive features for the sake of cultivating invention.
Frequently, allow your originating gifts full swing by
weaving complete imaginary fabrics — sights, sounds,
scenes; all the fine world of fantasy lies open to the
journeyings of your winged steed.
In like manner train yourself in the use of figurative
language. Learn first to distinguish and then to use its
varied forms. When used with restraint, nothing can be
more effective than the trope; but once let extravagance
RIDING THE WINGED HORSE 33 1
creep in by the window, and power will flee by the door.
All in all, master your images — let not them master
you.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Give original examples of each kind of reproductive
imagination.
2. Build two of these into imaginary incidents for
platform use, using your productive, or creative, imagin-
ation.
3. Define (a) phantasy; (b) vision; (c) fantastic;
(d) phantasmagoria; (e) transmogrify; (/) recollection.
4. What is a "figure of speech"?
5. Define and give two examples of each of the follow-
ing figures of speech!. At least one of the examples under
each type would better be original, (a) simile; (b) meta-
phor; (c) metonymy; (d) synecdoche; (e) apostrophe; (/)
vision; (g) personification; (h) hyperbole; (i) irony.
6. (a) What is an allegory? (b) Name one example.
(c) How could a short allegory be used as part of a public
address?
7. Write a short fable^ for use in a speech. Follow
either the ancient form (-^sop) or the modern (George
Ade, Josephine Dodge Daskam).
8. What do you imderstand by "the historical pre-
sent?" Illustrate how it may be used {ONLY occasion-
ally) in a pubhc address.
9. Recall some disturbance on the street, (a) De-
scribe it as you would on the platform; (b) imagine what
^Consult any good rhetoric. An unabridged dictionary will also be of help.
*For a full discussion of the form see, The Art of Story-Writing, by J. Berg
Esenwein and Mary D. Chambers.
332 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
preceded the disturbance; (c) imagine what followed it;
(d) connect the whole in a terse, dramatic narration for
the platform and deliver it with careful attention to all
that you have learned of the public speaker's art.
10. Do the same with other incidents you have seen,
or heard of, or read of in the newspapers.
Note : It is hoped that this exercise will be varied and
expanded until the pupil has gained considerable mastery
of imaginative narration. (See chapter on "Narra-
tion.")
11. Experiments have proved that the majority of
people think most vividly in terms of visual images.
However, some think more readily in terms of auditory
and motor images. It is a good plan to mix all kinds of
images in the course of your address for you will doubtless
have all kinds of hearers. This plan will serve to give
variety and strengthen your effects by appeaUng to the
several senses of each hearer, as well as interesting many
different auditors. For exercise, (a) give several original
examples of compound images, and (b) construct brief
descriptions of the scenes imagined. For example, the
falling of a bridge in process of building.
12. Read the following observantly:
The strikers suffered bitter poverty last winter in New York.
Last winter a woman visiting the East Side of New York City
saw another woman coming out of a tenement house wringing
her hands. Upon inquiry the visitor found that a child had
fainted in one of the apartments. She entered, and saw the child
ill and in rags, while the father, a striker, was too poor to pro-
vide medical help. A physician was called and said the child had
fainted from lack of food. The only food in the home was dried
RIDING THE WINGED HORSE 333
fish. The visitor provided groceries for the family and ordered
the milkman to leave milk for them daily. A month later she
returned. The father of the family knelt down before her, and
calling her an angel said that she had saved their lives, for the
milk she had provided was all the food they had had.
In the two preceding paragraphs we have substantially
the same story, told twice. In the first paragraph we
have a fact stated in general terms. In the second, we
have an outline picture of a specific happening. Now
expand this outline into a dramatic recital, drawing freely
upon your imagination.
CHAPTER XXVII
GROWING A VOCABULARY
Boys flying kites haul in their white winged birds;
You can't do that way when you're flying words.
"Careful with fire," is good advice we know,
"Careful with words," is ten times doubly so.
Thoughts unexpressed many sometimes fall back dead;
But God Himself can't kill them when they're said.
— Will Carleton, The First Settler's Story.
The term " vocabulary " has a special as well as a general
meaning. True, all vocabularies are grounded in the
everyday words of the language, out of which grow the
special vocabularies, but each such specialized group
possesses a number of words of peculiar value for its own
objects. These words may be used in other vocabularies
also, but the fact that they are suited to a unique order of
expression marks them as of special value to a particular
craft or calling.
In this respect the public speaker differs not at all from
the poet, the novelist, the scientist, the traveler. He must
add to his everyday stock, words of value for the public
presentation of thought. "A study of the discourses of
effective orators discloses the fact that they have a fond-
ness for words signifying power, largeness, speed, action,
color, light, and all their opposites. They frequently
employ words expressive of the various emotions. De-
scriptive words, adjectives used in fresh relations with
nouns, and apt epithets, are freely employed. Indeed,
GROWING A VOCABULARY 335
the nature of public speech permits the use of mildly
exaggerated words which, by the time they have reached
the hearer's judgment, will leave only a just impression.^"
Form the Book-Note Habit
To possess a word involves three things: To know its
special and broader meanings, to know its relation to
other words, and to be able to use it. When you see or
hear a familiar word used in an unfamiliar sense, jot it
down, look it up, and master it. We have in mind a
speaker of superior attainments who acquired his vocabu-
lary by noting all new words he heard or read. These he
mastered and put into use. Soon his vocabulary became
large, varied, and exact. Use a new word accurately five
times and it is yours. Professor Albert E. Hancock says:
"An author's vocabulary is of two kinds, latent and
dynamic: latent — those words he understands; dynamic
— those he can readily use. Every intelligent man knows
all the words he needs, but he may not have them all ready
for active service. The problem of literary diction consists
in turning the latent into the dynamic." Your dynaafrfc
vocabulary is the one you must especially cultivate.
In his essay on "A College Magazine" in the volume,
Memories and Portraits, Stevenson shows how he rose from
imitation to originality in the use of words. He had
particular reference to the formation of his literary style,
but words are the raw materials of style, and his excellent
example may well be followed judiciously by the public
1 How to Attract and Hold an Audience, J. Berg Eaenwein.
336 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
speaker. Words in their relations are vastly more impor-
tant than words considered singly.
Whenever I read a book or a passage that particularly pleased
me, in which a thing was said or an effect rendered with propriety,
in which there was either some conspicuous force or some happy
distinction in the style, I must sit down at once and set myself
to ape that quality. I was unsuccessful, and I knew it; and tried
again, and was again unsuccessful, and always unsuccessful;
but at least in these vain bouts I got some practice in rhythm,
in harmony, in construction and co6rdination of parts.
I have thus played the sedulous ape to Hazlitt, to Lamb, to
Wordsworth, to Sir Thomas Browne, to Defoe, to Hawthorne,
to Montaigne.
That, like it or not, is the way to learn to write; whether I
have profited or not, that is the way. It was the way Keats
learned, and there never was a finer temperament for literature
than Keats'.
It is the great point of these imitations that there still shines
beyond the student's reach, his inimitable model. Let him try
as he please, he is still sure of failure; and it is an old and very
true sa}ang that failure is the only highroad to success.
Form the Reference-Book Habit
Do not be content with your general knowledge of a
word — press your study until you have mastered its in-
dividual shades of meaning and usage. Mere fluency is
sure to become despicable, but accuracy never. The
dictionary contains the crystallized usage of intellectual
giants. No one who would write effectively dare despise its
definitions and discriminations. Think, for example, of
the different meanings of mantle^ or model, or quantity.
Any late edition of an unabridged dictionary is good, and
is worth making sacrifices to own.
GROWING A VOCABtJLARY 337
Books of synonyms and antonyms — used cautiously,
for there are few perfect synonyms in any language — will
be found of great help. Consider the shades of meanings
among such word-groups as thief ^ peculator, defatdter,
embezzler, burglar, yeggman, robber, bandit, marauder,
pirate, and many more; or the distinctions among Hebrew,
Jew, Israelite, and Semite. Remember that no book of
synonyms is trustworthy unless used with a dictionary.
"A Thesaurus of the English Language," by Dr. Francis
A. March, is expensive, but full and authoritative. Of
smaller books of synonyms and antonyms there are plenty.*
Study the connectives of English speech. Fernald's
book on this title is a mine of gems. Unsuspected pit-
falls lie in the loose use of and, or, for, while, and a score
of tricky little connectives.
Word derivations are rich in suggestiveness. Our
English owes so much to foreign tongues and has changed
so much with the centuries that whole addresses may grow
out of a single root-idea hidden away in an ancient word-
origin. Translation, also, is excellent exercise in word-
mastery and consorts well with the study of derivations.
Phrase books that show the origins of familiar expres-
sions will surprise most of us by showing how carelessly
everyday speech is used. Brewer's "A Dictionary of
Phrase, and Fable," Edwards' "Words, Facts, and
Phrases," and Thornton's "An American Glossary," are
all good — the last, an expensive work in three volumes.
A prefix or a suffix may essentially change the force of
1 A book of synonyms and antonjrms is in preparation for this series, "The
Writer's Library."
338 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the stem, as in master-ful and master-ly, contempt-ible and
contempt-uousy envi-ous and envi-able. Thus to study words
in groups, according to their stems, prefixes, and sufiixes,
is to gain a mastery over their shades of meaning, and
introduce us to other related words.
Do not Favor one Set or Kind of Words more than Another
" Sixty years''and more ago. Lord Brougham, addressing
the students of the , University of Glasgow, laid down the
rule that the native (Anglo-Saxon) part of our vocabulary
was to be favored at the expense of that other part which
has come from the Latin and Greek. The rule was an
impossible one, and Lord Brougham himself never tried
seriously to observe it; nor, in truth, has any great writer
made the attempt. Not only is our language highly com-
posite, but the component words have, in De Quincey's
phrase, 'happily coalesced.' It is easy to jest at words in
-osity and -ation, as * dictionary' words, and the like. But
even Lord Brougham would have found it difficult to
dispense with pomposity and imagination."^
The short, vigorous Anglo-Saxon will always be pre-
ferred for passages of special thrust and force, just as the
Latin will continue to furnish us with flowing and smooth
expressions; to mingle all sorts, however, will give variety
— ^and that is most to be desired.
Discuss Words With Those Who Know Them
Since the language of the platform follows closely the
diction of everyday speech, many useful words may be
K!ompo8%tion and Rhetoric, J. M. Hart.
GROWING A VOCABULARY 339
acquired in conversation with cultivated men, and when
such discussion takes the form of disputation as to the
meanings and usages of words, it will prove doubly
valuable. The development of word-power marches with
the growth of individuality.
Search Faithfully for the Right Word
Books of reference are tripled in value when their owner
has a passion for getting the kernels out of their shells. Ten
minutes a day will do wonders for the nut-cracker. " I am
growing so peevish about my writing," says Flaubert.
*'I am Uke a man whose ear is true, but who plays falsely
on the violin: his fingers refuse to reproduce precisely
those soimds of which he has the inward sense. Then the
tears come rolling down from the poor scraper's eyes and
the bow falls from his hand."
The same brilliant Frenchman sent this sound advice
to his pupil, Guy de Maupassant: "Whatever may be
the thing which one wishes to say, there is but one word
for expressing it, only one verb to animate it, only one
adjective to qualify it. It is essential to search for this
word, for this verb, for this adjective, until they are dis-
covered, and to be satisfied with nothing else."
Walter Savage Landor once wrote: "I hate false words,
and seek with care, difl&culty, and moroseness those that
fit the thing." So did Sentimental Tommy, as related by
James M. Barrie in his novel bearing his hero's name as
a title. No wonder T. Sandys became an author and a
lion!
Tommy, with another lad, is writing an essay on "A
34© THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Day in Church," in competition for a university scholar-
ship. He gets on finely until he pauses for lack of a word.
For nearly an hour he searches for this elusive thing, until
suddenly he is told that the allotted time is up, and he
has lost! Barrie may tell the rest:
Essay! It was no more an essay than a twig is a tree, for the
gowk had stuck in the middle of his second page. Yes, stuck is
the right expression, as his chagrined teacher had to admit when
the boy was cross-examined. He had not been "up to some of
his tricks; " he had stuck, and his explanations, as you will admit,
merely emphasized his incapacity.
He had brought himself to public scorn for lack of a word.
What word? they asked testily; but even now he could not tell.
He had wanted a Scotch word that would signify how many
people were in church, and it was on the tip of his tongue, but
would come no farther. Puckle was nearly the word, but it did
not mean so many people as he meant. The hour had gone by
just like winking; he had forgotten all about time while search-
ing his mind for the word.
The other five [examiners] were furious. . . . "You little
tattie doolie," Cathro roared, "were there not a dozen words
to wile from if you had an ill-will to puckle? What ailed you
at manzy, or — "
"I thought of manzy," replied Tommy, woefully, for he was
ashamed of himself, "but — but a manzy 's a swarm. It would
mean that the folk in the kirk were buzzing thegither like bees,
instead of sitting still."
" Even if it does mean that," said Mr. Duthie, with impatience,
"what was the need of being so particular? Surely the art of
essay-writing consists in using the first word that comes and
hurrying on."
"That's how I did," said the proud McLauchlan [Tommy's
successful competitor]. . . .
"I see," interposed Mr. Gloag, "that McLauchlan speaks of
there being a mask of people in the church. Mask is a fine Scotch
word."
GROWING A VOCABULARY 34I
"I thought of mask," whimpered Tommy, "but that would
mean the kirk was crammed, and I just meant it to be middling
full."
"Flow would have done," suggested Mr. Lorrimer.
"Flow's but a handful," said Tommy.
"Curran, then, you jackanapes!"
"Curran's no enough."
Mr. Lorrimer flung up his hands in despair.
" I wanted something between curran and mask," said Tommy,
doggedly, yet almost at the crying.
Mr. Ogilvy, who had been hiding his admiration with difficulty,
spread a net for him. "You said you wanted a word that meant
middling full. Well, why did you not say middling full — or
fell mask?"
"Yes, why not?" demanded the ministers, unconsciously
caught in the net.
"I wanted one word," replied Tommy, unconsciously avoid-
ing it.
"You jewel!" muttered Mr. Ogilvy under his breath, but
Mr. Cathro would have banged the boy's head had not the
ministers interfered.
" It is so easy, too, to find the right word," said Mr. Gloag.
"It's no; it's difficult as to hit a squirrel," cried Tommy,
and again Mr. Ogilvy nodded approval.
And then an odd thing happened. As they were preparing to
leave the school [Cathro having previously run Tommy out by
the neck], the door opened a little and there appeared in the
aperture the face of Tommy, tear-stained but excited. "I ken
the word now," he cried, "it came to me a' at once; it is hantle!"
Mr. Ogilvy .... said in an ecstasy to himself, "He
had to think of it till he got it — and he got it. The laddie
is a genius!"
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. What is the derivation of the word vocabulary?
2. Briefly discuss any complete speech given in this
342 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
volume, with reference to (a) exactness, (b) variety, and
(c) charm, in the use of words.
3. Give original examples of the kinds of word-studies
referred to on pages 337 and 338.
4. Deliver a short talk on any subject, using at least
five words which have not been previously in your "dyna-
mic" vocabulary.
5. Make a list of the unfamiliar words found in any
address you may select.
6. Deliver a short extemporaneous speech giving
your opinions on the merits and demerits of the use of
unusual words in public speaking.
7. Try to find an example of the over-use of unusual
words in a speech.
8. Have you used reference books in word studies?
If so, state with what result.
9. Find as many synonyms and antonyms as possible
for each of the following words: Excess, Rare, Severe,
Beautiful, Clear, Happy, Difference, Care, Skillful, In-
volve, Enmity, Profit, Absurd, Evident, Faint, Friendly,
Harmony, Hatred, Honest, Inherent.
CHAPTER XXVIII
MEMORY TRAINING
Lulled in the countless chambers of the brain,
Our thoughts are linked by many a hidden chain ;
Awake but one, and lo ! what myriads rise !
Each stamps its image as the other flies !
Hail, memory, hail ! in thy exhaustless mine
From age to age unnumber'd treasures shine !
Thought and her shadowy brood thy call obey,
And Place and Time are subject to thy sway!
— Samuel Rogers, Pleasures of Memory.
Many an orator, like Thackeray, has made the best
part of his speech to himself — on the way home from the
lecture hall. Presence of mind — ^it remained for Mark
Twain to observe — is greatly promoted by absence of
body. A hole in the memory is no less a common com-
plaint than a distressing one.
Henry Ward Beecher was able to deliver one of the
world's greatest addresses at Liverpool because of his
excellent memory. In speaking of the occasion Mr.
Beecher said that all the events, arguments and appeals
that he had ever heard or read or written seemed to pass
before his mind as oratorical weapons, and standing there
he had but to reach forth his hand and "seize the weapons
as they went smoking by." Ben Jonson could repeat all
he had written. Scaliger memorized the Iliad in three
weeks. Locke says: "Without memory, man is a per-
344 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
petual infant." Quintilian and Aristotle regarded it as a
measure of genius.
Now all this is very good. We all agree that a reliable
memory is an invaluable possession for the speaker. We
never dissent for a moment when we are solemnly told
that his memory should be a storehouse from which at
pleasure he can draw facts, fancies, and illustrations. But
can the memory be trained to act as the warder for all the
truths that we have gained from thinking, reading, and
experience? And if so, how? Let us see.
Twenty years ago a poor immigrant boy, employed as a
dish washer in New York, wandered into the Cooper
Union and began to read a copy of Henry George's
"Progress and Poverty." His passion for knowledge was
awakened, and he became a habitual reader. But he
found that he was not able to remember what he read, so
he began to train his naturally poor memory until he
became the world's greatest memory expert. This man
was the late Mr. Felix Berol. Mr. Berol could tell the
population of any town in the world, of more than five
thousand inhabitants. He could recall the names of forty
strangers who had just been introduced to him and was
able to tell which had been presented third, eighth,
seventeenth, or in any order. He knew the date of every
important event in history, and could not only recall an
endless array of facts but could correlate them perfectly.
To what extent Mr. Berol's remarkable memory was
natural and required only attention, for its development,
seems impossible to determine with exactness, but the
evidence clearly indicates that, however useless were
MEMORY TRAINING 345
many of his memory feats, a highly retentive memory
was developed where before only "a good forgettery"
existed.
The freak memory is not worth striving for, but a good
working memory decidedly is. Your power as a speaker
will depend to a large extent upon your ability to retain
impressions and call them forth when occasion demands,
and that sort of memory is like muscle — it responds to
training.
What Not to Do
It is sheer misdirected effort to begin to memorize by
learning words by rote, for that is beginning to build a
pyramid at the apex. For years our schools were cursed
by this vicious system — vicious not only because it is
inefficient but for the more important reason that it hurts
the mind. True, some minds are natively endowed with
a wonderful facility in remembering strings of words,
facts, and figures, but such are rarely good reasoning
minds; the normal person must belabor and force the
memory to acquire in this artificial way.
Again, it is hurtful to force the memory in hours of
physical weakness or mental weariness. Health is the
basis of the best mental action and the operation of
memory is no exception.
Finally, do not become a slave to a system. Knowledge
of a few simple facts of mind and memory will set you to
work at the right end of the operation. Use these prin-
cipleSy whether included in a system or not, but do not
bind yourself to a method that tends to lay more stress
on the way to remember than on the development of
34^ THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
memory itself. It is nothing short of ridiculous to memo-
rize ten words in order to remember one fact.
The Natural Laws of Memory
Concentrated attention at the time when you wish to
store the mind is the first step in memorizing — and the
most important one by far. You forgot the fourth of the
list of articles your wife asked you to bring home chiefly
because you allowed your attention to waver for an instant
when she was telling you. Attention may not be concen-
trated attention. When a siphon is charged with gas it
is sufficiently filled with the carbonic acid vapor to make
its influence felt; a mind charged with an idea is
charged to a degree suflicient to hold it. Too much charg-
ing will make the siphon burst; too much attention to
trifles leads to insanity. Adequate attention, then, is
the fundamental secret of remembering.
Generally we do not give a fact adequate attention
when it does not seem important. Almost everyone has
seen how the seeds in an apple point, and has memorized
the date of Washington's death. Most of us have — per-
haps wisely — forgotten both. The little nick in the bark
of a tree is healed over and obliterated in a season, but
the gashes in the trees around Gettysburg are still apparent
after fifty years. Impressions that are gathered lightly
are soon obliterated. Only deep impressions can be re-
called at will. Henry Ward Beecher said: "One intense
hour will do more than dreamy years." To memorize
ideas and words, concentrate on them until they are fixed
firmly and deeply in your mind and accord to them their
MEMORY TRAINING 347
true importance. Listen with the mind and you will
remember.
How shall you concentrate? How would you increase
the fighting-effectiveness of a man-of-war? One vital
way would be to increase the size and number of its guns.
To strengthen your memory, increase both the number
and the force of your mental impressions by attending to
them intensely. Loose, skimming reading, and drifting
habits of reading destroy memory power. However, as
most books and newspapers do not warrant any other
kind of attention, it will not do altogether to condemn this
method of reading; but avoid it when you are trjdng to
memorize.
Environment has a strong influence upon concentration,
until you have learned to be alone in a crowd and undis-
turbed by clamor. When you set out to memorize a fact
or a speech, you may find the task easier away from all
sounds and moving objects. All impressions foreign to
the one you desire to fix in your mind must be eliminated.
The next great step in memorizing is to pick out the
essentials of the subject, arrange them in order, and dwell
upon them intently. Think clearly of each essential, one
after the other. Thinking a thing — not allowing the mind
to wander to non-essentials — is really memorizing.
Association of ideas is universally recognized as an
essential in memory work; indeed, whole systems of
memory training have been founded on this principle.
Many speakers memorize only the outlines of their
addresses, filling in the words at the moment of speaking.
Some have found it helpful to remember an outUne by
348 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
associating the different points with objects in the room.
Speaking on "Peace," you may wish to dwell on the cost,
the cruelty, and the failure of war, and so lead to the
justice of arbitration. Before going on the platform if
you will associate four divisions of your outline with four
objects in the room, this association may help you to
recall them. You may be prone to forget your third point,
but you remember that once when you were speaking the
electric lights failed, so arbitrarily the electric light globe
will help you to remember *' failure." Such associations,
being unique, tend to stick in the mind. While recently
speaking on the six kinds of imagination the present writer
formed them into an acrostic — visual, auditory, motoTy
gustatory, olfactory, and tactile, furnished the nonsense
word vamgot, but the six points were easily remembered.
In the same way that children are taught to remember
the spelling of teasing words — separate comes from separ —
and as an automobile driver remembers that two C's and
then two H's lead him into Castor Road, Cottman Street,
Haynes Street and Henry Street, so important points in
your address may be fixed in mind by arbitrary symbols
invented by yourself. The very work of devising the
scheme is a memory action. The psychological process
is simple: it is one of noting intently the steps by which a
fact, or a truth, or even a word, has come to you. Take
advantage of this tendency of the mind to remember by
association.
Repetition is a powerful aid to memory. Thurlow
Weed, the journalist and political leader, was troubled
because he so easily forgot the names of persons he met
MEMORY TRAINING 349
from day to day. He corrected the weakness, relates
Professor William James, by forming the habit of attend-
ing carefully to names he had heard during the day and
then repeating them to his wife every evening. Doubt-
less Mrs. Weed was heroically longsuffering, but the
device worked admirably.
After reading a passage you would remember, close the
book, reflect, and repeat the contents — aloud, if possible.
Reading thoughtfully aloud has been found by many to
be a helpful memory practise.
Write what you wish to remember. This is simply one
more way of increasing the number and the strength of
your mental impressions by utilizing all your avenues of
impression. It will help to fix a speech in your mind if
you speak it aloud, listen to it, write it out, and look at it
intently. You have then impressed it on your mind by
means of vocal, auditory, muscular and visual impressions.
Some folk have pecuUarly distinct auditory memories;
they are able to recall things heard much better than things
seen. Others have the visual memory; they are best able
to recall sight-impressions. As you recall a walk you have
taken, are you able to remember better the sights or the
sounds? Find out what kinds of impressions your memory
retains best, and use them the most. To fix an idea in
mind, use every possible kind of impression.
Daily habit is a great memory cultivator. Learn a
lesson from the Marathon runner. Regular exercise,
though never so little daily, will strengthen your memory in
a surprising measure. Try to describe in detail the dress,
looks and manner of the people you pass on the street.
350 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Observe the room you are in, close your eyes, and describe
its contents. View closely the landscape, and write out
a detailed description of it. How much did you miss?
Notice the contents of the show windows on the street;
how many features are you able to recall? Continual
practise in this feat may develop in you as remarkable
proficiency as it did in Robert Houdin and his son.
The daily memorizing of a beautiful passage in litera-
ture will not only lend strength to the memory, but will
store the mind with gems for quotation. But whether
by little or much add daily to your memory power by
practise.
Memorize out of doors. The buoyancy of the wood, the
shore, or the stormy night on deserted streets may freshen
your mind as it does the minds of countless others.
Lastly, cast out fear. Tell yourself that you can and
will and do remember. By pure exercise of selfism assert
your mastery. Be obsessed with the fear of forgetting
and you cannot remember. Practise the reverse. Throw
aside your manuscript crutches — you may tumble once
or twice, but what matters that, for you are going to
learn to walk and leap and run.
Memorizing a Speech
Now let us try to put into practise the foregoing sug-
gestions. First, reread this chapter, noting the nine ways
by which memorizing may be helped.
Then read over the following selection from Beecher,
applying so many of the suggestions as are practicable.
Get the spirit of the selection firmly in your mind. Make
MEMORY TRAINING 35 1
mental note of — write down, if you must — the succession
of ideas. Now memorize the thought. Then memorize
the outline, the order in which the different ideas are
expressed. Finally, memorize the exact wording.
No, when you have done all this, with the most faith-
ful attention to directions, you will not find memorizing
easy, unless you have previously trained your memeory, or
it is naturally retentive. Only by constant practise will
memory become strong and only by continually observing
these same principles will it remain strong. You will,
however, have made a beginning, and that is no mean
matter.
THE REIGN OF THE COMMON PEOPLE
I do not suppose that if you were to go and look upon the
experiment of self-government in America you would have a
very high opinion of it. I have not either, if I just look upon the
surface of things. Why, men will say: " It stands to reason that
60,000,000 ignorant of law, ignorant of constitutional history,
ignorant of jurisprudence, of finance, and taxes and tariffs and
forms of currency — 60,000,000 people that never studied these
things — are not fit to rule. Your diplomacy is as complicated
as ours, and it is the most compHcated on earth, for all things
grow in complexity as they develop toward a higher condition.
What fitness is there in these people? Well, it is not democracy
merely; it is a representative democracy. Our people do not
vote in mass for anything; they pick out captains of thought,
they pick out the men that do know, and they send them to the
Legislature to think for them, and then the people afterward
ratify or disallow them.
But when you come to the Legislature I am bound to confess
that the thing does not look very much more cheering on the
outside. Do they really select the best men? Yes; in times of
danger they do very generally, but in ordinary time, "kissing
goes by favor. ' ' You know what the duty of a regular Republican-
352 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Democratic legislator is. It is to get back again next winter.
His second duty is what? His second duty is to put himself under
that extraordinary providence that takes care of legislators'
salaries. The old miracle of the prophet and the meal and the
oil is outdone immeasurably in our days, for they go there poor
one year, and go home rich; in four years they become money-
lenders, all by a trust in that gracious providence that takes care
of legislators' salaries. Their next duty after that is to serve the
party that sent them up, and then, if there is anything left of
them, it belongs to the commonwealth. Someone has said very
wisely, that if a man traveling wishes to relish his dinner he had
better not go into the kitchen to see where it is cooked; if a
man wishes to respect and obey the law, he had better not go
to the Legislature to see where that is cooked.
Henry Ward Beecher.
From a lecture delivered in Exeter Hall, London,
1886, when making his last tour of Great Britain.
In Case of Trouble
But what are you to do if, notwithstanding all your
efforts, you should forget your points, and your mind, for
the minute, ,becomes blank? This is a deplorable condi-
tion that sometimes arises and must be dealt with. Ob-
viously, you can sit down and admit defeat. Such a
consummation is devoutly to be shunned.
Walking slowly across the platform may give you time
to grip yourself, compose your thoughts, and stave off
disaster. Perhaps the surest and most practical method
is to begin a new sentence with your last important word.
This is not advocated as a method of composing a speech —
it is merely an extreme measure which may save you in
tight circumstances. It is like the fire department — the
less you must use it the better. If this method is followed
very long you are likely to find yourself talking about
MEMORY TRAINING 353
plum pudding or Chinese Gordon in the most unexpected
manner, so of course you will get back to your lines the
earliest moment that your feet have hit the platform.
Let us see how this plan works — obviously, your ex-
temporized words will lack somewhat of polish, but in
such a pass crudity is better than failure.
Now you have come to a dead wall after saying: "Joan
of Arc fought for liberty." By this method you might
get something like this:
"Liberty is a sacred privilege for which mankind always
had to fight. These struggles [Platitude — ^but push on]
fill the pages of history. History records the gradual
triumph of the serf over the lord, the slave over the master.
The master has continually tried to usurp unlimited
powers. Power during the medieval ages accrued to the
owner of the land with a spear and a strong castle; but
the strong castle and spear were of little avail after the
discovery of gunpowder. Gunpowder was the greatest
boon that liberty had ever known."
Thus far you have linked one idea with another rather
obviously, but you are getting your second wind now and
may venture to relax your grip on the too-evident chain;
and so you say:
"With gunpowder the humblest serf in all the land
could put an end to the life of the tyrannical baron behind
the castle walls. The struggle for liberty, with gunpowder
as its aid, wrecked empires, and built up a new era for all
mankind."
In a moment more you have gotten back to your outline
and the day is saved.
354 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Practising exercises like the above will not only fortify
you against the death of your speech when your memory
misses fire, but it will also provide an excellent training
for fluency in speaking. Stock up with ideas,
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Pick out and state briefly the nine helps to memoriz-
ing suggested in this chapter.
2. Report on whatever success you may have had
with any of the plans for memory culture suggested in
this chapter. Have any been less successful than others?
3. Freely criticise any of the suggested methods.
4. Give an original example of memory by association
of ideas.
5. List in order the chief ideas of any speech in this
volume.
6. Repeat them from memory.
7. Expand them into a speech, using your own words.
8. Illustrate practically what would you do, if in the
midst of a speech on Progress, your memory failed you
and you stopped suddenly on the following sentence:
"The last century saw marvelous progress in varied lines
of activity."
9. How many quotations that fit well in the speaker's
tool chest can you recall from memory?
10. Memorize the poem on page 42. How much time
does it require?
CHAPTER XXIX
RIGHT THINKING AND PERSONALITY
Whatever crushes individuality is despotism, by whatever
name it may be called. — ^John Stuart Mill, On Liberty.
Right thinl<ing fits for complete living by developing the
power to appreciate the beautiful in nature and art, power to
think the true and to will the good, power to live the life of
thought, and faith, and hope, and love.
— N. C. ScHAEFFER, Thinking and Learning to Think.
The speaker's most valuable possession is personality —
that indefinable, imponderable something which sums up
what we are, and makes us different from others; that
distinctive force of self which operates appreciably on
those whose lives we touch. It is personality alone that
makes us long for higher things. Rob us of our sense of
individual life, with its gains and losses, its duties and
joys, and we grovel. "Few human creatures," says
John Stuart Mill, ''would consent to be changed into any
of the lower animals for a promise of the fullest allowance
of a beast's pleasures; no intelligent human being would
consent to be a fool, no instructed person would be an
ignoramus, no person of feeling and conscience would be
selfish and base, even though he should be persuaded that
the fool, or the dunce, or the rascal is better satisfied with
his lot than they with theirs. . . . It is better to be a
human being dissatisfied than a pig satisfied, better to be
a Socrates dissatisfied than a fool satisfied. And if the
356 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
fool or the pig is of a different opinion, it is only because
they know only their own side of the question. The other
party to the comparison knows both sides."
Now it is precisely because the Socrates type of person
lives on the plan of right thinking and restrained feeling
and willing that he prefers his state to that of the animal.
All that a man is, all his happiness, his sorrow, his achieve-
ments, his failures, his magnetism, his weakness, all are
in an amazingly large measure the direct results of his
thinking. Thought and heart combine to produce right
thinking: "As a man thinketh in his heart so is he." As
he does not think in his heart so he can never become.
Since this is true, personality can be developed and its
latent powers brought out by careful cultivation. We
have long since ceased to believe that we are living in a
realm of chance. So clear and exact are nature's laws
that we forecast, scores of years in advance, the appearance
of a certain comet and foretell to the minute an eclipse of
the Sun. And we understand this law of cause and effect
in all our material realms. We do not plant potatoes and
expect to pluck hyacinths. The law is universal: it
applies to our mental powers, to morality, to personality,
quite as much as to the heavenly bodies and the grain of
the fields. "Whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also
reap," and nothing else.
Character has always been regarded as one of the chief
factors of the speaker's power. Cato defined the orator
as vir bonus dicendi peritus — a good man skilled in speaking.
Phillips Brooks says: "Nobody can truly stand as an
utterer before the world, unless he be profoundly living
RIGHT THINKING AND PERSONALITY 357
and earnestly thinking." "Character," says Emerson, "is
a natural power, like light and heat, and all nature co-
operates with it. The reason why we feel one man's
presence, and do not feel another's is as simple as gravity.
Truth is the summit of being: justice is the application of
it to affairs. All individual natures stand in a scale,
according to the purity of this element in them. The will
of the pure runs down into other natures, as water runs
down from a higher into a lower vessel. This natural
force is no more to be withstood than any other natural
force. . . . Character is nature in the highest form."
It is absolutely impossible for impure, bestial and selfish
thoughts to blossom into loving and altruistic habits.
Thistle seeds bring forth only the thistle. Contrariwise, it
is entirely impossible for continual altruistic, sympathetic,
and serviceful thoughts to bring forth a low and vicious
character. Either thoughts or feelings precede and de-
termine all our actions. Actions develop into habits,
habits constitute character, and character determines
destiny. Therefore to guard our thoughts and control
our feeUngs is to shape our destinies. The syllogism is
complete, and old as it is it is still true.
Since "character is nature in the highest form," the
development of character must proceed on natural lines.
The garden left to itself will bring forth weeds and scrawny
plants, but the flower-beds nurtured carefully will blossom
into fragrance and beauty.
As the student entering college largely determines his
vocation by choosing from the different courses of the
curriculum, so do we choose our characters by choosing
3S8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
our thoughts. We are steadily going up toward that
which we most wish for, or steadily sinking to the level of
our low desires. What we secretly cherish in our hearts
is a symbol of what we shall receive. Our trains of thoughts
are hurrying us on to our destiny. When you see the
flag fluttering to the South, you know the wind is coming
from the North. When you see the straws and papers
being carried to the Northward you realize the wind is
blowing out of the South. It is just as easy to ascertain
a man's thoughts by observing the tendency of his
character.
Let it not be suspected for one moment that all this is
merely a preachment on the question of morals. It is
that, but much more, for it touches the whole man — his
imaginative nature, his ability to control his feelings, the
mastery of his thinking faculties, and — perhaps most
largely — his power to will and to carry his volitions into
effective action.
Right thinking constantly assumes that the will sits
enthroned to execute the dictates of mind, conscience and
heart. Never tolerate for an instant the suggestion that your
will is not absolutely efficient. The way to will is to will —
and the very first time you are tempted to break a worthy
resolution — and you will be, you may be certain of that —
make your fight then and there. You cannot afford to lose
that fight. You must win it — don't swerve for an instant,
but keep that resolution if it kills you. It will not, but
you must fight just as though life depended on the victory;
and indeed your personality may actually lie in the
balances!
RIGHT THINKING AND PERSONALITY 359
Your success or failure as a speaker will be determined
very largely by your thoughts and your mental atti-
tude. The present writer had a student of limited educa-
tion enter one of his classes in public speaking. He proved
to be a very poor speaker; and the instructor could con-
scientiously do little but point out faults. However, the
young man was warned not to be discouraged. With
sorrow in his voice and the essence of earnestness beaming
from his eyes, he replied: "I will not be discouraged! I
want so badly to know how to speak!" It was warm,
human, and from the very heart. And he did keep on
trying — and developed into a creditable speaker.
There is no power under the stars that can defeat a man
with that attitude. He who down in the deeps of his
heart earnestly longs to get facility in speaking, and is
willing to make the sacrifices necessary, will reach his goal.
"Ask and ye shall receive; seek and ye shall find; knock
and it shall be opened unto you," is indeed applicable to
those who would acquire speech-power. You will not
realize the prize that you wish for languidly, but the goal
that you start out to attain with the spirit of the old guard
that dies but never surrenders, you will surely reach.
Your belief in your ability and your willingness to make
sacrifices for that belief, are the double index to your
future achievements. Lincoln had a dream of his possi-
bilities as a speaker. He transmuted that dream into life
solely because he walked many miles to borrow books
which he read by the log-fire glow at night. He
sacrificed much to realize his vision. Livingstone had a
great faith in his ability to serve the benighted races of
360 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Africa. To actualize that faith he gave up all. Leaving
England for the interior of the Dark Continent he struck
the death blow to Europe's profits from the slave trade.
Joan of Arc had great self-confidence, glorified by an
infinite capacity for sacrifice. She drove the English
beyond the Loire, and stood beside Charles while he was
crowned.
These all realized their strongest desires. The law is
universal. Desire greatly, and you shall achieve; sacri-
fice much, and you shall obtain.
Stanton Davis Kirkham has beautifully expressed this
thought: "You may be keeping accounts, and presently
you shall walk out of the door that has for so long seemed
to you the barrier of your ideals, and shall find yourself
before an audience — the pen still behind your ear, the ink
stains on your fingers — and then and there shall pour out
the torrent of your inspiration. You may be driving
sheep, and you shall wander to the city — bucolic and
open-mouthed; shall wander under the intrepid guidance
of the spirit into the studio of the master, and after a time
he shall say, * I have nothing more to teach you.' And now
you have become the master, who did so recently dream
of great things while driving sheep. You shall lay down
the saw and the plane to take upon yourself the regenera-
tion of the world."
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. What, in your own words, is personality?
2. How does personality in a speaker affect you as a
listener?
RIGHT THINKING AND PERSONALITY 361
3. In what ways does personality show itself in a
speaker?
4. Deliver a short speech on "The Power of Will in
the Public Speaker."
5. Deliver a short address based on any sentence you
choose from this chapter.
CHAPTER XXX
AFTER-DINNER AND OTHER OCCASIONAL
SPEAKING
The perception of the ludicrous is a pledge of sanity.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson, Essays.
And let him be sure to leave other men their turns to speak.
— Francis Bacon, Essay on Civil and Moral Discourse.
Perhaps the most brilliant, and certainly the most
entertaining, of all speeches are those delivered on after-
dinner and other special occasions. The air of well-fed
content in the former, and of expectancy well primed in
the latter, furnishes an audience which, though not
readily won, is prepared for the best, while the speaker
himself is pretty sure to have been chosen for his gifts of
oratory.
The first essential of good occasional speaking is to
study the occasion. Precisely what is the object of the
meeting? How important is the occasion to the audience?
How large will the audience be? What sort of people are
they? How large is the auditorium? Who selects the
speakers' themes? Who else is to speak? What are they
to speak about? Precisely how long am I to speak? Who
speaks before I do and who follows?
If you want to hit the nail on the head ask such ques-
tions as these. ^ No occasional address can succeed unless
*See also page 205.
AFTER-DINNER AND OTHER OCCASIONAL SPEAKING 363
it fits the occasion to a T. Many prominent men have
lost prestige because they were too careless or too busy
or too self-confident to respect the occasion and the audi-
ence by learning the exact conditions under which they
were to speak. Leaving too much to the moment is taking
a long chance and generally means a less effective speech,
if not a failure.
Suitability is the big thing in an occasional speech.
When Mark Twain addressed the Army of the Tennessee
in reunion at Chicago, in 1877, he responded to the toast,
"The Babies." Two things in that after-dinner speech
are remarkable: the bright introduction, by which he
subtly claimed the interest of all, and the humorous use
of military terms throughout:
Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen: "The Babies." Now, that's
something like. We haven't all had the good fortune to be ladies;
we have not all been generals, or poets, or statesmen; but when
the toast works down to the babies, we stand on common ground
— ^for we've all been babies. It is a shame that for a thousand
years the world's banquets have utterly ignored the baby, as if
he didn't amount to anything! If you, gentlemen, will stop and
think a minute — if you will go back fifty or a hundred years, to
your early married life, and recontemplate your first baby — you
will remember that he amounted to a good deal — and even some-
thing over.
"As a vessel is known by the sound, whether it be
cracked or not," said Demosthenes, "so men are proved
by their speeches whether they be wise or foolish." Surely
the occasional address furnishes a severe test of a speaker's
wisdom. To be trivial on a serious occasion, to be funereal
at a banquet, to be long-windedjever — these are the marks
364 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
of non-sense. Some imprudent souls seem to select the
most friendly of after-dinner occasions for the explosion
of a bomb-shell of dispute. Around the dinner table it is
the custom of even political enemies to bury their hatchets
anywhere rather than in some convenient skull. It -is
the height of bad taste to raise questions that in hours
consecrated to good-will can only irritate.
Occasional speeches offer good chances for humor, par-
ticularly the funny story, for humor with a genuine point
is not trivial. But do not spin a whole skein of humorous
yarns with no more connection than the inane and thread-
bare "And that reminds me." An anecdote without
bearing may be funny but one less funny that fits theme
and occasion is far preferable. There is no way, short of
sheer power of speech, that so surely leads to the heart of
an audience as rich, appropriate humor. The scattered
diners in a great banqueting hall, the after-dinner lethargy,
the anxiety over approaching last-train time, the over-
full list of over-full speakers — all throw out a challenge
to the speaker to do his best to win an interested hearing.
And when success does come it is usually due to a happy
mixture of seriousness and humor, for humor alone rarely
scores so heavily as the two combined, while the utterly
grave speech neoer does on such occasions.
If there is one place more than another where second-
hand opinions and platitudes are unwelcome it is in the
after-dinner speech. Whether you are toast-master or
the last speaker to try to hold the waning crowd at mid-
night, be as original as you can. How is it possible to
summarize the qualities that go to make up the good after-
AFTER-DINNER AND OTHER OCCASIONAL SPEAKING 365
dinner speech, when we remember the inimitable serious-
drollery of Mark Twain, the sweet southern eloquence of
Henry W. Grady, the funereal gravity of the humorous
Charles Battell Loomis, the charm of Henry Van Dyke,
the geniality of F. Hopkinson Smith, and the all-round
delightfulness of Chauncey M. Depew? America is
literally rich in such gladsome speakers, who punctuate
real sense with nonsense, and so make both effective.
Commemorative occasions, unveilings, commencements,
dedications, eulogies, and all the train of special public
gatherings, offer rare opportunities for the display of
tact and good sense in handling occasion, theme, and audi-
ence. When to be dignified and when colloquial, when to
soar and when to ramble arm in arm with your hearers,
when to flame and when to soothe, when to instruct and
when to amuse — in a word, the whole matter of appro-
priateness must constantly be in mind lest you write
your speech on water.
Finally, remember the beatitude: Blessed is the man
that maketh short speeches, for he shall be invited to
speak again.
SELECTIONS FOR STUDY
LAST DAYS OF THE CONFEDERACY
(Extract)
The Rapidan suggests another scene to which allusion has
often been made since the war, but which, as illustrative also of
the spirit of both armies, I may be permitted to recall in this
connection. In the mellow twilight of an April day the two
armies were holding their dress parades on the opposite hills
366 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
bordering the river. At the close of the parade a magnificent
brass band of the Union army played with great spirit the
patriotic airs, "Hail Columbia," and "Yankee Doodle." Where-
upon the Federal troops responded with a patriotic shout. The
same band then played the soul-stirring strains of "Dixie," to
which a mighty response came from ten thousand Southern
troops. A few moments later, when the stars had come out as
witnesses and when all nature was in harmony, there came from
the same band the old melody, "Home, Sweet Home." As its
familiar and pathetic notes rolled over the water and thrilled
through the spirits of the soldiers, the hills reverberated with a
thundering response from the united voices of both armies. What
was there in this old, old music, to so touch the chords of sym-
pathy, so thrill the spirits and cause the frames of brave men to
tremble with emotion? It was the thought of home. To thou-
sands, doubtless, it was the thought of that Eternal Home to
which the next battle might be the gateway. To thousands of
others it was the thought of their dear earthly homes, where
loved ones at that twilight hour were bowing round the family
altar, and asking God's care over the absent soldier boy.
— General J. B. Gordon, C. S. A.
WELCOME TO KOSSUTH
(Extract)
Let me ask you to imagine that the contest, in which the
United States asserted their independence of Great Britain, had
been unsuccessful; that our armies, through treason or a league
of tyrants against us, had been broken and scattered; that the
great men who led them, and who swayed our councils — our
Washington, our Franklin, and the venerable president of the
American Congress — had been driven forth as exiles. If there
had existed at that day, in anj'- part of the civilized world, a
powerful Republic, with institutions resting on the same founda-
tions of liberty which our own countrymen sought to establish,
would there have been in that Republic any hospitality too
cordial, any sympathy too deep, any zeal for their glorious but
unfortunate cause, too fervent or too active to be shown toward
AFTER-DINNER AND OTHER OCCASIONAL SPEAKING 367
these illustrious fugitives? Gentlemen, the case I have supposed
is before you. The Washingtons, the Franklins, the Hancocks
of Hungary, driven out by a far worse tyranny than was ever
endured here, are wanderers in foreign lands. Some of them have
sought a refuge in our country — one sits with this company our,
guest to-night — and we must measure the duty we owe them by
the same standard which we would have had history apply, if
our ancestors had met with a fate like theirs.
— William Cullen Bryant.
THE INFLUENCE OF UNIVERSITIES
(Extract)
When the excitement of party warfare presses dangerously
near our national safeguards, I would have the intelligent con-
servatism of our universities and colleges warn the contestants
in impressive tones against the perils of a breach impossible to
repair.
When popular discontent and passion are stimulated by the
arts of designing partisans to a pitch perilously near to class
hatred or sectional anger, I would have our universities and col-
leges sound the alarm in the name of American brotherhood and
fraternal dependence.
When the attempt is made to delude the people into the belief
that their suffrages can change the operation of national laws, I
would have our universities and colleges proclaim that those
laws are inexorable and far removed from political control.
When selfish interest seeks undue private benefits through
governmental aid, and public places are claimed as rewards of
party service, I would have our universities and colleges persuade
the people to a relinquishment of the demand for party spoils
and exhort them to a disinterested and patriotic love of their
government, whose unperverted operation secures to every citizen
his just share ofj,the safety and prosperity it holds in store for all.
I would have the influence of these institutions on the side of
religion and morality. I would have those they send out among
the people not ashamed to acknowledge God, and to proclaim
His interposition in the affairs of men, enjoining such obedience
to His laws as makes manifest the path of national perpetuity
368 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
and prosperity — Grover Cleveland, delivered at the Princeton
Sesqui-Centennial, 1896.
EULOGY OF GARFIELD
(Extract)
Great in life, he was surpassingly great in death. For no
cause, in the very frenzy of wantonness and wickedness, by the
red hand of murder, he was thrust from the full tide of this
world's interest, from its hopes, its aspirations, its victories, into
the visible presence of death — and he did not quail. Not alone
for the one short moment in which, stunned and dazed, he could
give up life, hardly aware of its relinquishment, but through days
of deadly languor, through weeks of agony, that was not less
agony because silently borne, with clear sight and calm courage,
he looked into his open grave. What blight and ruin met his
anguished eyes, whose lips may tell — what brilliant, broken
plans, what baffled, high ambitions, what sundering of strong,
warm, manhood's friendships, what bitter rending of sweet
household ties! Behind him a proud, expectant nation, a great
host of sustaining friends, a cherished and happy mother, wear-
ing the full rich honors of her early toil and tears; the wife of
his youth, whose whole life lay in his; the little boys not yet
emerged from childhood's day of frolic; the fair young daughter;
the sturdy sons just springing into closest companionship, claim-
ing every day and every day rewarding a father's love and care;
and in his heart the eager, rejoicing power to meet all demand.
Before him, desolation and great darkness! And his soul was
not shaken. His countrymen were thrilled with instant, pro-
found and universal sympathy. Masterful in his mortal weak-
ness, he became the centre of a nation's love, enshrined in the
prayers of a world. But all the love and all the sympathy could
not share with him his suffering. He trod the wine press alone.
With unfaltering front he faced death. With unfailing tender-
ness he took leave of life. Above the demoniac hiss of the
assassin's bullet he heard the voice of God. With simple resig-
nation he bowed to the Divine decree. — James G. Blaine.,
delivered at the memorial service held by the U. S. Senate and
House of Representatives.
AFTER-DINNER AND OTHER OCCASIONAL SPEAKING 369
EULOGY OF LEE
(Extract)
At the bottom of all true heroism is unselfishness. Its crown-
ing expression is sacrifice. The world is suspicious of vaunted
heroes. But when the true hero has come, and we know that
here he is in verity, ah! how the hearts of men leap forth to greet
him! how worshipfully we welcome God's noblest work — the
strong, honest, fearless, upright man. In Robert Lee was such
a hero vouchsafed to us and to mankind, and whether we behold
him declining command of the federal army to fight the battles
and share the miseries of his own people; proclaiming on the
heights in front of Gettysburg that the fault of the disaster was
his own; leading charges in the crisis of combat; walking under
the yoke of conquest without a murmur of complaint; or refusing
fortune to come here and train the youth of his country in the
paths of duty, — he is ever the same meek, grand, self-sacrificing
spirit. Here he exhibited qualities not less worthy and heroic
than those displayed on the broad and open theater of conflict,
when the eyes of nations watched his every action. Here in the
calm repose of civil and domestic duties, and in the trying routine
of incessant tasks, he lived a life as high as when, day by day,
he marshalled and led his thin and wasting lines, and slept by
night upon the field that was to be drenched again in blood upon
the morrow. And now he has vanished from us forever. And
is this all that is left of him — this handful of dust beneath the
marble stone? No! the ages answer as they rise from the gulfs
of time, where lie the wrecks of kingdoms and estates, holding
up in their hands as their only trophies, the names of those who
have wrought for man in the love and fear of God, and in love-
unfearing for their fellow-men. No ! the present answers, bending
by his tomb. No! the future answers as the breath of the morn-
ing fans its radiant brow, and its soul drinks in sweet inspirations
from the lovely life of Lee. No ! methinks the very heavens echo,
as melt into their depths the words of reverent love that voice
the hearts of men to the tingling stars.
Come we then to-day in loyal love to sanctify our memories,
to purify our hopes, to make strong all good intent by commimion
with the spirit of him who, being dead yet speaketh. Come,
370 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
child, in thy spotless innocence; come, woman, in thy purity;
come, youth, in thy prime; come, manhood, in thy strength;
come, age, in thy ripe wisdom; come, citizen; come, soldier; let
us strew the roses and lilies of June around his tomb, for he, like
them, exhaled in his life Nature's beneficence, and the grave has
consecrated that life and given it to us all; let us crown his tomb
with the oak, the emblem of his strength, and with the laurel,
the emblem of his glory, and let these guns, whose voices he
knew of old, awake the echoes of the mountains, that nature
herself may join in his solemn requiem. Come, for here he rests,
and
On this green bank, by this fair stream,
We set to-day a votive stone.
That memory may his deeds redeem,
When, like our sires, our sons are gone.
— John Warwick Daniel, on the
unveiling of Lee's statue at Washington and
Lee University, Lexington, Virginia, 1883.
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Why should humor find a place in after-dinner
speaking?
2. Briefly give your impressions of any notable after-
dinner address that you have heard.
3. Briefly outline an imaginary occasion of any sort
and give three subjects appropriate for addresses.
4. Deliver one such address, not to exceed ten minutes
in length.
5. What proportion of emotional ideas do you find in
the extracts given in this chapter?
6. Humor was used in some of the foregoing addresses
— ^in which others would it have been inappropriate?
7. Prepare and deliver an after-dinner speech suited
APTER-DINNER AND OTHER OCCASIONAL SPEAKING 37 1
to one of the following occasions, and be sure to use humor :
A lodge banquet.
A political party dinner.
A church men's club dinner.
A civic association banquet.
A banquet in honor of a celebrity.
A woman's club annual dinner.
A business men's association dinner.
A manufacturers' club dinner.
An alumni banquet.
An old home week barbecue.
CHAPTER XXXI
MAKING CONVERSATION EFFECTIVE
In conversation avoid the extremes of forwardness and reserve.
— Cato.
Conversation is the laboratory and workshop of the student.
— Emerson, Essays: Circles.
The father of W. E. Gladstone considered conversation
to be both an art and an accomplishment. Around the
dinner table in his home some topic of local or national
interest, or some debated question, was constantly being
discussed. In this way a friendly rivalry for supremacy
in conversation arose among the family, and an incident
observed in the street, an idea gleaned from a book, a
deduction from personal experience, was carefully stored
as material for the family exchange. Thus his early years
of practise in elegant conversation prepared the younger
Gladstone for his career as a leader and speaker.
There is a sense in which the ability to converse effec-
tively is efficient public speaking, for our conversation is
often heard by many, and occasionally decisions of great
moment hinge upon the tone and quality of what we say
in private.
Indeed, conversation in the aggregate probably wields
more power than press and platform combined. Socrates
taught his great truths, not from public rostnuns, but in
personal converse. Men made pilgrimages to (joethe's
MAKING CONVERSATION EFFECTIVE 373
library and Coleridge's home to be charmed and instructed
by their speech, and the culture of many nations was
immeasurably influenced by the thoughts that streamed
out from those rich well-springs.
Most of the world-moving speeches are made in the
course of conversation. Conferences of diplomats, busi-
ness-getting arguments, decisions by boards of directors,
considerations of corporate policy, all of which influence
the political, mercantile and economic maps of the world,
are usually the results of careful though informal con-
versation, and the man whose opinions weigh in such
crises is he who has first carefully pondered the words
of both antagonist and protagonist.
However important it may be to attain self-control
in light social converse, or about the family table, it is
undeniably vital to have oneself perfectly in hand while
taking part in a momentous conference. Then the hints
that we have given on poise, alertness, precision of word,
clearness of statement, and force of utterance, with re-
spect to public speech, are equally applicable to con-
versation.
The form of nervous egotism — ^for it is both — that
suddenly ends in flusters just when the vital words need
to be uttered, is the sign of coming defeat, for a conversa-
tion is often a contest. If you feel this tendency embarrass-
ing you, be sure to listen to Holmes's advice:
And when you stick on conversational burs,
Don't strew your pathway with those dreadful urs»
Here bring your will into action, for your trouble is a
374 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
wandering attention. You must force your mind to per-
sist along the chosen line of conversation and resolutely
refuse to be diverted by any subject or happening that
may unexpectedly pop up to distract you. To fail here
is to lose effectiveness utterly.
Concentration is the keynote of conversational charm
and efficiency. The haphazard habit of expression that
uses bird-shot when a bullet is needed insures missing
the game, for diplomacy of all sorts rests upon the precise
application of precise words, particularly — if one may
paraphrase Tallyrand — in those crises when language is
no longer used to conceal thought.
We may frequently gain new light on old subjects by
looking at word-derivations. Conversation signifies in
the original a turn-about exchange of ideas, yet most
people seem to regard it as a monologue. Bronson Alcott
used to say that many could argue, but few converse.
The first thing to remember in conversation, then, is that
listening — respectful, sympathetic, alert listening — is not
only due to our fellow converser but due to ourselves.
Many a reply loses its point because the speaker is so
much interested in what he is about to say that it is really
no reply at all but merely an irritating and humiliating
irrelevancy.
Self-expression is exhilarating. This explains the
eternal impulse to decorate totem poles and paint pic-
tures, write poetry and expound philosophy. One of the
chief deUghts of conversation is the opportunity it affords
for self-expression. A good conversationalist who monopo-
lizes all the conversation, will be voted a bore because
MAKING CONVERSATION EFFECTIVE 375
he denies others the enjoyment of self-expression, while
a mediocre talker who listens interestedly may be con-
sidered a good conversationalist because he permits his
companions to please themselves through self-expression.
They are praised who please: they please who listen well.
The first step in remedying habits of confusion in man-
ner, awkward bearing, vagueness in thought, and lack of
precision in utterance, is to recognize your faults. If you
are serenely unconscious of them, no one — least of all
yourself — can help you. But once diagnose your own
weaknesses, and you can overcome them by doing four
things:
1. WILL to overcome them, and keep on willing.
2. Hold yourself in hand by assuring yourself that you
know precisely what you ought to say. If you cannot do
that, be quiet until you are clear on this vital point.
3. Having thus assured yourself, cast out the fear of
those who listen to you — they are only human and will
respect your words if you really have something to say
and say it briefly, simply, and clearly.
4. Have the courage to study the English language
until you are master of at least its simpler forms.
Conversational Hints
Choose some subject that will prove of general interest
to the whole group. Do not explain the mechanism of a
gas engine at an afternoon tea or the culture of hollyhocks
at a stag party.
It is not considered good taste for a man to bare his
arm in public and show scars or deformities. It is equally
376 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKENG
bad form for him to flaunt his own woes, or the deformity
of some one else^s character. The public demands plays
and stories that end happily. All the world is seeking
happiness. They cannot long be interested in your ills
and troubles. George Cohan made himself a millionaire
before he was thirty by writing cheerful plays. One of
his rules is generally applicable to conversation: "Always
leave them laughing when you say good bye."
Dynamite the "I" out of your conversation. Not one
man in nine hundred and seven can talk about himself
without being a bore. The man who can perform that
feat can achieve marvels without talking about himself,
so the eternal "I" is not permissible even in his talk.
If you habitually build your conversation around your
own interests it may prove very tiresome to your listener.
He may be thinking of bird dogs or dry fly fishing while
you are discussing the fourth dimension, or the merits of
a cucumber lotion. The charming conversationalist is
prepared to talk in terms of his listener's interest. If
his listener spends his spare time investigating Guernsey
cattle or agitating social reforms, the discriminating con-
versationalist shapes his remarks accordingly. Richard
Washburn Child says he knows a man of mediocre ability
who can charm men much abler than himself when he
discusses electric lighting. This same man probably
would bore, and be bored, if he were forced to converse
about music or Madagascar.
Avoid platitudes and hackneyed phrases. If you
meet a friend from Keokuk on State Street or on Pike's
Peak, it is not necessary to observe: "How small this
MAKING CONVERSATION EFFECTIVE 377
world is after all!" This observation was doubtless made
prior to the formation of Pike's Peak. "This old worid
is getting better every day." "Farmer's wives do not
have to work as hard as formerly." "It is not so much
the high cost of living as the cost of high living." Such
observations as these excite about the same degree of
admiration as is drawn out by the appearance of a 1903-
model touring car. If you have nothing fresh or interest-
ing you can always remain silent. How would you like
to read a newspaper that flashed out in bold headlines
"Nice Weather We Are Having," or daily gave columns
to the same old material you had been reading week after
week?
QUESTIONS AND EXERCISES
1. Give a short speech describing the conversational
bore.
2. In a few words give your idea of a charming con-
verser.
3. What qualities of the orator should not be used in
conversation.
4. Give a short humorous delineation of the conversa-
tional "oracle."
5. Give an account of your first day at observing con-
versation around you.
6. Give an account of one day's effort to improve your
own conversation.
7. Give a list of subjects you heard discussed during
any recent period you may select.
8. What is meant by "elastic touch" in conversation?
378 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
9. Make a list of "Bromides," as Gellett Burgess
calls those threadbare expressions which "bore us to ex-
tinction"— itself a Bromide.
10. What causes a phrase to become hackneyed?
11. Define the words, {a) trite; (b) solecism; (c)
colloquialism; {d) slang; (e) vulgarism; (/) neologism.
12. What constitutes pretentious talk?
APPENDICES
APPENDIX A
Fifty Questions for Debate^
1. Has Labor Unionism justified its existence?
2. Should all church printing be brought out under the
Union Label?
3. Is the Open Shop a benefit to the community?
4. Should arbitration of industrial disputes be made
compulsory?
5. Is Profit-Sharing a solution of the wage problem?
6. Is a minimum wage law desirable?
7. Should the eight-hour day be made universal in
America?
8. Should the state compensate those who sustain
irreparable business loss because of the enactment of
laws prohibiting the manufacture and sale of intoxi-
cating drinks?
9. Should public utilities be owned by the municipality?
10. Should marginal trading in stocks be prohibited?
11. Should the national government establish a com-
pulsory system of old-age insurance by taxing the
incomes of those to be benefited?
12. Would the triumph of socialistic principles result in
deadening personal ambition?
^The publishers of this volume will on receipt of request enclosing stamped
self-addressed envelope, forward a descriptive list of volumes containing dis-
cussions of the art of debate, debatable questions, arguments pro and con, com-
plete briefs and reference sources for debates.
380 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
13. Is the Presidential System a better form of govern-
ment for the United States than the Parliamental
System?
14. Should our legislation be shaped toward the gradual
abandonment of the protective tariff?
15. Should the government of the larger cities be vested
solely in a commission of not more than nine men,
elected by the voters at large?
16. Should national banks be permitted to issue, subject
to tax and government supervision, notes based on
their general assets?
17. Should woman be given the ballot on the present
basis of suffrage for men?
18. Should the present basis of suffrage be restricted?
19. Is the hope of permanent world-peace a delusion?
20. Should the United States send a diplomatic repre-
sentative to the Vatican?
21. Should the Powers of the world substitute an inter-
national police for national standing armies?
22. Should the United States maintain the Monroe
Doctrine?
23. Should the Recall of Judges be adopted?
24. Should the Initiative and Referendum be adopted
as a national principle?
25. Is it desirable that the national government should
own all railroads operating in interstate territory?
26. Is it desirable that the national government should
own interstate telegraph and telephone systems?
27. Is the national prohibition of the liquor traffic an
economic necessity?
APPENDICES 381
28. Should the United States army and navy be greatly
strengthened?
29. Should the same standards of altruism obtain in the
relations of nations as in those of individuals?
30. Should our government be more highly centralized?
31. Should the United States continue its policy of
opposing the combination of railroads?
32. In case of personal injury to a workman arising out
of his employment, should his employer be liable for
adequate compensation and be forbidden to set up
as a defence a plea of contributory negligence on
the part of the workman, or the negligence of a
fellow workman.
33. Should all corporations doing an interstate business
be required to take out a Federal Ucense?
34. Should the amount of property that can be trans-
ferred by inheritance be limited by law?
35. Should equal compensation for equal labor, between
women and men, universally prevail?
36. Does equal suffrage tend to lessen the interest of
woman in her home?
37. Should the United States take advantage of the com-
mercial and industrial weakness of foreign nations,
brought about by the war, by trying to wrest from
them their markets in Central and South America?
38. Should teachers of small children in the public
schools be selected from among mothers?
39. Should football be restricted to colleges, for the sake
of physical safety?
40. Should college students who receive compensation
382 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
for playing summer baseball be debarred from ama-
teur standing?
41. Should daily school-hours and school vacations both
be shortened?
42. Should home-study for pupils in grade schools be
abolished and longer school-hours substituted?
43. Should the honor system in examinations be adopted
in public high-schools?
44. Should all colleges adopt the self-government system
for its students?
45. Should colleges be classified by national law and
supervision, and uniform entrance and graduation
requirements maintained by each college in a
particular class?
46. Should ministers be required to spend a term of years
in some trade, business, or profession, before be-
coming pastors?
47. Is the Y. M. C. A. losing its spiritual power?
48. Is the church losing its hold on thinking people?
49. Are the people of the United States more devoted to
religion than ever?
50. Does the reading of magazines contribute to intel-
lectual shallowness?
APPENDIX B
Thirty Themes for Speeches
With Source References for Material.
1. Kinship, a Foundation Stone of Civilization.
"The State," Woodrow Wilson.
2. Initiative and Referendum.
"The Popular Initiative and Referendum," O. M.
Barnes.
3. Reciprocity with Canada.
Article in Independent^ 53: 2874; article in North
American Review J i']^: 205.
4. Is Mankind Progressing?
Book of same title, M. M. Ballou.
5. Moses the Peerless Leader.
Lecture by John Lord, in " Beacon Lights of History."
Note: This set of books contains a vast store of
material for speeches.
6. The Spoils System.
Sermon by the Rev. Dr. Henry van Dyke, reported
in the New York Tribune, February 25, 1895.
7. The Negro in Business.
Part III, Annual Report of the Secretary of Internal
Affairs, Pennsylvania, 191 2.
8. Immigration and Degradation.
"Americans or Aliens?" Howard B. Grose.
9. What is the Theatre Doing for America?
"The Drama Today," Charlton Andrews.
10. Superstition.
"Curiosities of Popular Custom," WilUam S. Walsh.
384 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
11. The Problem or Old Age.
"Old Age Deferred," Arnold Lorand.
12. Who is the Tramp?
Article in Century ^ 28: 41.
13. Two Men Inside.
"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde," R. L. Stevenson.
14. The Overthrow of Poverty.
"The Panacea for Poverty," Madison Peters.
15. Morals and Manners.
"A Christian's Habits," Robert E. Speer.
16. Jew and Christian.
"Jesus the Jew," Harold Weinstock.
17. Education and the Moving Picture.
Article by J. Berg Esenwein in "The Theatre of
Science," Robert Grau.
18. Books as Food.
"Books and Reading," R. C. Gage and Alfred
Harcourt.
19. What is a Novel?
"The Technique of the Novel," Charles F. Home.
20. Modern Fiction and Modern Life.
Article in Lippincotfs, October, 1907.
21. Our Problem in Mexico.
"The Real Mexico," Hamilton Fyfe.
22. The Joy of Receiving.
Article in WomarCs Home Companion^ December,
1914.
23. Physical Training vs. College Athletics.
Article in Literary Digest , November 28, 19 14.
appendices 385
24. Cheer Up.
"The Science of Happiness," Jean Finot.
25. The Square Peg in the Round Hole.
''The Job, the Man, and the Boss," Katherine
Blackford and Arthur Newcomb.
26. The Decay of Acting.
Article in Current Opinion, November, 1914.
27. The Young Man and the Church.
"A Young man's Religion," N. McGee Waters.
28. Inheriting Success
Article in Current Opinion, November, 19 14.
29. The Indian in Oklahoma.
Article in Literary Digest, November 28, 1914.
30. Hate and the Nation.
Article in Literary Digest, November 14, 1Q14.
APPENDIX C
Suggestive Subjects for Speeches^
With Occasional Hints on Treatment
1. Movies aiu) Morals.
2. The Truth about Lying.
The essence of truth-telling and lying. Lies that are
not so considered. The subtleties of distinctions
required. Examples of implied and acted lies.
3. Benefits That Follow Disasters.
Benefits that have arisen out of floods, fires, earth-
quakes, wars, etc.
4. Haste for Leisure.
How the speed mania is born of a vain desire to
enjoy a leisure that never comes or, on the contrary,
how the seeming haste of the world has given men
shorter hours of labor and more time for rest, study,
and pleasure.
5. St. Paul's Message to New York.
Truths from the Epistles pertinent to the great cities
of today.
6. Education and Crime.
7. Loss IS THE Mother of Gain.
How many men have been content until, losing all,
they exerted their best eflforts to regain success, and
succeeded more largely than before.
lit must be remembered that the phrasing of the subject will not
•arily serve for the title.
appendices 387
8. Egoism vs. Egotism.
9. Blunders of Young Fogyism.
10. The Waste of Middle-Men in Charity Systems.
The cost of collecting funds for, and administering
help to, the needy. The weakness of organized
philanthropy as compared with the giving that
gives itself.
11. The Economy of Organized Charity.
The other side of the picture.
12. Freedom of the Press.
The true forces that hurtfully control too many
newspapers are not those of arbitrary governments
but the corrupting influences of moneyed and politi-
cal interests, fear of the liquor power, and the desire
to please sensation-loving readers.
13. Helen Keller: Optimist.
14. Back to the Farm.
A study of the reasons underlying the movement.
15. It Was Ever Thus.
In ridicule of the pessimist who is never surprised
at seeing failure.
16. The Vocational High School.
Value of direct training compared with the policy of
laying broader foundations for later building. How
the two theories work out in practise. Each plan
can be especially applied in cases that seem to need
special treatment.
17. All Kinds of Turning Done Here.
A humorous, yet serious, discussion of the flopping,
wind-mill character.
388 the art of public speaking
1 8. The Egoistic Altruist.
Herbert Spencer's theory as discussed in "The Data
of Ethics."
19. How THE City Menaces the Nation.
Economic perils in massed population. Show also
the other side. Signs of the problem's being solved.
20. The Robust Note in Modern Poetry.
A comparison of the work of Galsworthy, Masefield
and Kipling with that of some eariier poets.
21. The Ideals of Socialism.
22. The Future of the Small City.
How men are coming to see the economic advantages
of smaller municipalities.
23. Censorship for the Theatre.
Its relation to morals and art. Its difficulties and its
benefits.
24. For Such a Time as This.
Mordecai's expression and its application to oppor-
tunities in modern woman's life.
2$. Is THE Press Venal?
26. Safety First.
27. Menes and Extremes.
28. Rubicons and Pontoons.
How great men not only made momentous decisions
but created means to carry them out. A speech full
of historical examples. ,
29. Economy a Revenue.
30. The Patriotism of Protest against Popular
Idols.
31. Savonarola, the Divine Outcast.
APPENDICES 389
32. The True PoLixiaAN.
Revert to the original meaning of the word. Build
the speech around one man as the chief example.
33. Colonels and Shells.
Leadership and "cannon fodder" — a protest against
war in its effect on the common people.
34. Why is a Militant?
A dispassionate examination of the claims of the
British militant suffragette.
35. Art and Morals.
The difference between the nude and the naked in art.
36. Can my Country be Wrong?
False patriotism and true, with examples of
populary-hated patriots.
37. Government by Party.
An analysis of our present political system and the
movement toward reform.
38. The Effects of Fiction on History.
39. The Effects of History on Fiction.
40. The Influence of War on Literature.
41. Chinese Gordon.
A eulogy.
42. Taxes and Higher Education.
Should all men be compelled to contribute to the
support of universities and professional schools?
43. Prize Cattle vs. Prize Babies.
Is Eugenics a science? And is it practicable?
44. Benevolent Autocracy.
Is a strongly paternal government better for the
masses than a much larger freedom for the individual?
390 the art of public speaking
45. Second-Hand Opinions.
The tendency to swallow reviews instead of forming
one's own views.
46. Parentage or Power?
A study of which form of aristocracy must eventually
prevail, that of blood or that of talent.
47. The Blessing of Discontent.
Based on many examples of what has been accom-
plished by those who have not "let well-enough
alone."
48. "Corrupt and Contented."
A study of the relation of the apathetic voter to
vicious government.
49. The Moloch of Child-Labor.
50. Every Man has a Right to Work.
51. Charity that Fosters Pauperism.
n[ 52. "Not in Our Stars but in Ourselves."
Destiny vs. choice.
53. Environment vs. Heredity.
54. The Bravery of Doubt.
Doubt not mere unbelief. True groimds for doubt.
What doubt has led to. Examples. The weakness
of mere doubt. The attitude of the wholesome
doubter verstis that of the wholesale doubter.
55. The Spirit of Monticello.
A message from the life of Thomas Jefferson.
56. Narrowness in Specialism.
The dangers of specializing without first possessing
broad knowledge. The eye too close to one object.
Balance is a vital prerequisite for specialization.
appendices 391
57. Responsibility of Labor Unions to the Law.
58. The Future of Southern Literature.
What conditions in the history, temperament and
environment of our Southern people indicate a bright
literary future.
59. Woman the Hope of Idealism in America.
60. The Value of Debating Clubs.
61. An Army of Thirty Millions.
In praise of the Sunday-school.
62. The Baby.
How the ever-new baby holds mankind in unselfish
courses and saves us all from going lastingly wrong.
63. Lo, THE Poor Capitalist.
His trials and problems.
64. Honey and Sting.
A lesson from the bee.
65. Ungrateful Republics.
Examples from history.
66. ** Every Man has his Price."
Horace Walpole's cynical remark is not true now,
nor was it true even in his own corrupt era. Of what
sort are the men who cannot be bought? Examples.
67. The Scholar in Diplomacy.
Examples in American life.
68. Locks and Keys.
There is a key for every lock. No difficulty so great,
no truth so obscure, no problem so involved, but
that there is a key to fit the lock. The search for the
right key, the struggle to adjust it, the vigilance to
retain it — these are some of the problems of success.
392 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
7 69. Right Makes Might.
70. Rooming with a Ghost.
Influence of the woman graduate of fifty years before
on the college girl who lives in the room once occu-
pied by the distinguished *'old grad."
71. No Fact is a Single Fact.
The importance of weighing facts relatively.
72. Is Classical Education Dead to Rise no More?
73. Invective Against Nietsche's Philosophy.
74. Why Have we Bosses?
A fair-minded examination of the uses and abuses of
the political ** leader."
75. A Plea for Settlement Work.
76. Credulity vs. Faith.
77. What is Humor?
78. Use and Abuse of the Cartoon.
79. The Pulpit in Politics.
80. Are Colleges Growing too Large?
81. The Doom of Absolutism.
82. Shall Woman Help Keep House for Town, City,
State, and Nation?
83. The Educational Test for Suffrage.
84. The Property Test for Suffrage.
85. The Menace of the Plutocrat.
86. The Cost of High Living.
87. The Cost of Conveniences.
88. Waste in American Life.
/ 89. The Effect of the Photoplay on the "Legiti-
' mate" Theatre.
^ 90. Room for the Kicker.
appendices 393
91. The Need for Trained Diplomats.
92. The Shadow of the Iron Chancellor.
93. The Tyrrany of the Crowd.
94. Is Our Trial by Jury Satisfactory?
95. The High Cost of Securing Justice.
96. The Need for Speedier Court Trials.
97. Triumphs of the American Engineer.
98. goethals and gorgas.
99. Public Education Makes Service to the Public
A Duty.
100. Man Owes his Life to the Common Good.
APPENDIX D
Speeches for Study and Practise
NEWELL DWIGHT HILUS
BRAVE LITTLE BELGIUM
Delivered in Plymouth Church, Brooklyn, N. Y., October 18, 1914.
Used by permission.
Long ago Plato made a distinction between the occasions of
war and the causes of war. The occasions of war lie upon the
surface, and are known and read of all men, while the causes of
war are embedded in racial antagonisms, in political and eco-
nomic controversies. Narrative historians portray the occasions
of war; philosophic historians, the secret and hidden causes.
Thus the spark of fire that falls is the occasion of an explosion,
but the cause of the havoc is the relation between charcoal, niter
and saltpeter. The occasion of the Civil War was the firing upon
Fort Sumter. The cause was the collision between the ideals of
the Union presented by Daniel Webster and the secession taught
by Calhoun. The occasion of the American Revolution was the
Stamp Tax; the cause was the conviction on the part of our
forefathers that men who had freedom in worship carried also
the capacity for self-government. The occasion of the French
Revolution was the purchase of a diamond necklace for Queen
Marie Antoinette at a time when the treasurv was exhausted;
the cause of the revolution was feudalism. >fot otherwise, the
occasion of the great conflict that is now shaking our earth was
the assassination of an Austrian boy and girl, but the cause is
embedded in racial antagonisms and economic competition.
As for Russia, the cause of the war was her desire to obtain the
Bosphorus — and an open seaport, which is the prize offered for
her attack upon Germany. As for Austria, the cause of the war
is her fear of the growing power of the Balkan States, and the
progressive slicing away of her territory. As for France, the
cause of the war is the instinct of self-preservation, that resists
an invading host. As for Germany, the cause is her deep-seated
conviction that every country has a moral right to the mouth
of its greatest river; unable to compete with England, by round-
about sea routes and a Kiel Canal, she wants to use the route
that nature digged for her through the mouth of the Rhine. As
for England, the motherland is fighting to recover her sense
of security. During the Napoleonic wars the second William
Pitt explained the quadrupling of the taxes, the increase of the
navy, and the sending of an English army against France, by the
statement that justification of this proposed war is the " Preserva-
APPENDICES 395
tion of England's sense of security." Ten years ago England
lost her sense of security. Today she is not seeking to preserve,
but to recover, the lost sense of security. She proposes to do
this by destroying Germany's ironclads, demobilizing her army,
wiping out her forts, and the partition of her provinces. The
occasions of the war vary, with the color of the paf>er — "white"
and " gray " and " blue " — ^but the causes of this war are embedded
in racial antagonisms and economic and political differences.
Why Little Belgium Has the Center of the Stage
Tonight our study concerns little Belgium, her people, and
their part in this conflict. Be the reasons what they may, this
little land stands in the center of the stage and holds the lime-
light. Once more David, armed with a sling, has gone up against
ten Goliaths. It is an amazing spectacle, this, one of the smallest
of the States, battling with the largest of the giants! Belgium
has a standing army of 42,000 men, and Germany, with three
reserves, perhaps 7,000,000 or 8,000,000. Without waiting for
any assistance, this little Belgium band went up against 2,000,000.
It is as if a honey bee had decided to attack an eagle come to
loot its hopeycomb. It is as if an antelope had turned against a
lion. Belgium has but 11,000 square miles of land, less than the
States of Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Connecticut. Her
population is 7,500,000, less than the single State of New York.
You could put twenty-two Belgiums in our single State of Texas.
Much of her soil is thin; her handicaps are heavy, but the in-
dustry of her people has turned the whole land into one vast
flower and vegetable garden. The soil of Minnesota and the
Dakotas is new soil, and yet our farmers there average but
fifteen bushels of wheat to the acre. Belgium's soil has been used
for centuries, but it averages thirty-seven bushels of wheat to
the acre. If we grow twenty-four bushels of barley on an acre
of ground, Belgium grows fifty; she produces 300 bushels of
potatoes, where the Maine farmer harvests 90 bushels. Bel-
?ium's average population per square mile has risen to 645 people,
f Americans practised intensive farming; if the population of
Texas were as dense as it is in Belgium — 100,000,000 of the
United States, Canada and Central America could all move to
Texas, while if our entire country was as densely populated as
Belgium's, everybody in the world could live comfortably within
the limits of our country.
The Life of the People
And yet, little Belgium has no gold or silver mines, and all the
treasures of copper and zinc and lead and anthracite and oil
396 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
have been denied her. The gold is in the heart of her people.
No other land holds a race more prudent, industrious and thrifty.
It is a land where everybody works. In the winter when the
sun does not rise until half past seven, the Belgian cottages have
lights in their windows at five, and the people are ready for an
eleven-hour day. As a rule all children work after 12 years of
age. The exquisite pointed lace that has made Belgium famous,
is wrought by women who fulfill the tasks of the household ftd-
fiUed by American women, and then begins their task upon the
exquisite laces that have sent their name and fame throughout
the world. Their wages are low, their work hard, but their life
is so peaceful and prosperous that few Belgians ever emigrate
to foreign countries. Of late they have made their education
compulsory, their schools free. It is doubtful whether any other
country has made a greater success of their system of transporta-
tion. You will pay 50 cents to journey some twenty odd miles
out to Roslyn, on our Long Island railroad, but in Belgium a
commuter journeys twenty miles in to the factory and back again
every night and makes the six double daily journeys at an entire
cost of 373^ cents per week, less than the amount that you pay
for the journey one way for a like distance in this cotmtry. Out
of this has come Belgium's prosperity. She has the money to
buy goods from other countries, and she has the property to
export to foreign lands. Last year the United States, with its
hundred millions of people, imported less than $2,000,000,000,
and exported $2,500,000,000. If our people had been as prosper-
ous per capita as Belgium, we would have purchased from other
countries $12,000,000,000 worth of goods and exported
$10,000,000,000.
So largely have we been dependent upon Belgium that many
of the engines used in digging the Panama Canal came from the
Cockerill works that produce two thousands of these engines
every year in Liege. It is often said that the Belgians have the
best courts in existence. The Supreme Court of Little Belgium
has but one Justice. Without waiting for an appeal, just as soon
as a decision has been reached by a lower Court, while the matters
are still fresh in mind and all the witnesses and facts readily
obtainable, this Supreme Justice reviews all the objections raised
on either side and without a motion from anyone passes on the
decision of the inferior court. On the other hand, the lower
courts are open to an immediate settlement of disputes between
the wage earners, and newsboys and fishermen are almost daily
seen going to the judge for a decision regarding a dispute over
five or ten cents, "^^en the judge has cross-questioned both
sides, without the presence of attorneys, or the necessity of serv-
ing a process, or raising a dollar and a quarter, as here, the poorest
of the poor have their wrongs righted. It is said that not one
decision out of one himdred is appealed, thus calling for the
existence of an attorney.
APPENDICES 397
To all other institutions organized in the interest of the wage
earner has been added the national savings bank system, that
makes loans to men of small means, that enables the farmer and
the working man to buy a little garden and build a house, while
at the same time insuring the working man against accident and
sickness. Belgium is a poor man's country, it has been said,
because institutions have been administered in the interest of the
men of small affairs.
The Great Belgium Plain in History
But the institutions of Belgium and the industrial prosperity
of her people alone are not equal to the explanation of her unique
heroism. Long ago, in his Commentaries, Julius Caesar said that
Gaul was inhabited by three tribes, the Belgae, the Aquitani,
the Celts, "of whom the Belgae were the bravest," History will
show that Belgians have courage as their native right, for only
the brave could have survived. The southeastern part of Belgium
is a series of rock plains, and if these plains have been her good
fortune in times of peace, they have furnished the battlefields of
Western Europe for two thousand years. Northern France and
Western Germany are rough, jagged and wooded, but the
Belgian plains were ideal battlefields. For this reason the gen-
erals of Germany and of France have usually met and struggled
for the mastery on these wide Belgian plains. On one of these
grounds Julius Caesar won the first battle that is recorded. Then
came King Clovis and the French, with their campaigns; toward
these plains also the Saracens were hurrying when assaulted by
Charles Martel. On the Belgian plains the Dutch burghers and
the Spanish armies, led by Bloody Alva, fought out their battle.
Hither, too, came Napoleon, and the great mound of Waterloo
is the monument to the Duke of Wellington's victory. It was
to the Belgian plains, also, that the German general, last August,
rushed his troops. Every college and every city searches for
some level spot of land where the contest between opposing
teams may be held, and for more than two thousand years the
Belgian plain has been the scene of the great battles between the
warring nations of Western Europe.
Now, out of all these collisions there has come a hardy race,
inured to peril, rich in fortitude, loyalty, patience, thrift, self-
reliance and persevering faith. For five hundred years the Belgian
children and youth have been brought up upon the deeds of noble
renown, achieved by their ancestors. If Julius Caesar were here
today he would wear Belgium's bravery like a bright sword, girded
to his thigh. And when this brave little people, with a standing
army of forty-two thousand men, single-handed defied two
millions of Germans, it tells us that Ajax has come back once
more to defy the god of lightnings.
398 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
A Thrilling Chapter from Belgium's History
Perhaps one or two chapters torn from the pages of Belgium's
history will enable us to understand her present-day heroism,
just as one golden bough plucked from the forest will explain
the richness of the autumn. You remember that Venice was
once the financial center of the world. Then when the bankers
lost confidence in the navy of Venice they put their jewels and
gold into saddle bags and moved the financial center ot the world
to Nuremburg, because its walls were seven feet thick and twenty
feet high. Later, about 1500 A. D., the discovery of the New
World turned all the peoples into races of sea-going folk, and the
English and Dutch captains vied with the sailors of Spain and
Portugal. No captains were more prosperous than the mariners
of Antwerp. In 1568 there were 500 marble mansions in this
city on the Meuse. Belgium became a casket filled with jewels.
Then it was that Spain turned covetous eyes northward. Sated
with his pleasures, broken by indulgence and passion, the Em-
peror Charles the Fifth resigned his gold and throne to his son,
King Philip. Finding his coffers depleted, Philip sent the Duke
of Alva, with 10,000 Spanish soldiers, out on a looting expedition.
Their approach filled Antwerp with consternation, for her
merchants were busy with commerce and not with war. The
sack of Antwerp by the Spaniards makes up a revolting page in
history. Within three days 8,000 men, women and children were
massacred, and the Spanish soldiers, drunk with wine and blood,
hacked, drowned and burned like fiends that they were. The
Belgian historian tells us that 500 marble residences were reduced
to blackened ruins. One incident will make the event stand out.
When the Spaniards approached the city a wealthy burgher
hastened the day of his son's marriage. During the ceremony
the soldiers broke down the gate of the city and crossed the
threshold of the rich man's house. When they had stripped the
guests of their purses and gems, unsatisfied, they killed the
bridegroom, slew the men, and carried the bride out into the night.
The next morning a young woman, crazed and half clad, was
found in the street, searchmg among the dead bodies. At last
she found a youth, whose head she lifted upon her knees, over
which she crooned her songs, as a yoimg mother soothes her babe.
A Spanish officer passing by, humiliated by the spectacle, ordered
a soldier to use his dagger and put the girl out of her misery.
The Horrors of the Inquisition
Having looted Antwerp, the treasure chest of Belgium, the
Spaniards set up the Inquisition as an organized means of securing
property. It is a strange fact that the Spaniard has excelled in
cruelty as other nations have excelled in art or science or inven-
tion. Spain's cruelty to the Moors and the rich Jews forms one
of the blackest chapters in history. Inquisitors became fiends.
APPENDICES 399
Moors were starved, tortured, burned, flung in wells, Jewish bankers
had their tongues thrust through little iron rings; then the end
of the tongue was seared that it might swell, and the banker was
led by a string in the ring through the streets of the city. The
women and the children were put on rafts that were pushed out
into the Mediterranean Sea. When the swollen corpses drifted
ashore, the plague broke out, and when that black plague spread
over Spain it seemed like the justice of outraged nature. The
expulsion of the Moors was one of the deadliest blows ever struck
at science, commerce, art and literature. The historian tracks
Spain across the continents by a trail of blood. Wherever Spain's
hand has fallen it has paralyzed. From the days of Cortez,
wherever her captains have given a pledge, the tongue that spake
has been mildewed with lies and treachery. The wildest beasts
are not in the jungle; man is the lion that rends, man is the
leopard that tears, man's hate is the serpent that poisons, and
the Spaniard entered Belgium to turn a garden into a wilderness.
Within one year, 1568, Antwerp, that began with 125,000 people,
ended it with 50,000. Many multitudes were put to death by
the sword and stake, but many, many thousands fled to England,
to begin anew their hves as manufacturers and mariners; and
for years Belgium was one quaking peril, an inferno, whose
torturers were Spaniards. The visitor in Antwerp is still shown
the rack upon which they stretched the merchants that they
might yield up their hidden gold. The Painted Lady may be
seen. Opening her arms, she embraces the victim. The Spaniard,
with his spear, forced the merchant into the deadly embrace.
As the iron arms concealed in velvet folded together, one spike
passed through each eye, another through the mouth, another
through the heart. The Painted Lady's lips were poisoned, so
that a kiss was fatal. The dungeon whose sides were forced
together by screws, so that each day the victim saw his cell
growing less and less, and knew that soon he would be crushed to
death, was another instrument of torture. Literally thousands of
innocent men and women were burned alive in the market place.
There is no more piteous tragedy in history than the story
of the decline and ruin of this superbly prosperous, literary and
artistic country, and yet out of the ashes came new courage.
Burned, broken, the Belgians and the Dutch were not beaten.
Pushed at last into Holland, where they united their fortunes
with the Dutch, they cut the dykes of Holland, and let in the
ocean, and clinging to the dykes with their finger tips, fought
their way back to the land; but no sooner had the last of the
Spaniards gone than out of their rags and poverty they founded
a university as a monument to the providence of God in deliver-
ing them out of the hands of their enemies. For, the Sixteenth
Century, in the form of a brave knight, wears little Belgium and
Holland like a red rose upon his heart.
400 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
The Death of Egmont
But some of you will say that the Belgian people must have
been rebels and guilty of some excess, and that had they remained
quiescent, and not fomented treason, that no such fate could
have overtaken them at the hands of Spain. Very well. I will
take a youth who, at the beginning, believed in Charles the Fifth,
a man who was as true to his ideals as the needle to the pole.
One day the "Bloody Council" decreed the death of Egmont
and Horn. Immediately afterward, the Duke of Alva sent an
invitation to Egmont to be the guest of honor at a banquet in
his own house. A servant from the palace that night delivered
to the Count a slip of paper, containing a warning to take the
fleetest horse and flee the city, and from that moment not to eat
or sleep without pistols at his hand. To all this Egmont re-
spyonded that no monster ever lived who could, with an invitation
of hospitality, trick a patriot. Like a brave man, the Count
went to the Duke's palace. He found the guests assembled, but
when he had handed his hat and cloak to the servant, Alva gave
a sign, and from behind the curtains came Spanish musqueteers,
who demanded his sword. For instead of a banquet hall, the
Count was taken to a cellar, fitted up as a dungeon. Already
Egmont had all but died for his country. He had used his ships,
his trade, his gold, for righting the people's wrongs. He was a
man of a large family — a wife and eleven children — and people
loved him as to idolatry. But Alva was inexorable. He had
made up his mind that the merchants and burghers had still
much hidden gold, and if he killed their bravest and best, terror
would fall upon all alike, and that the gold he needed would be
forthcoming. That all the people might witness the scene, he
took his prisoners to Brussels and decided to behead them in the
public square. In the evening Egmont received the notice that
his head would be chopped off the next day. A scaffold was
erected in the public square. That evening he wrote a letter
that is a marvel of restraint.
"Sire — I have learned this evening the sentence which your
majesty has been pleased to pronounce upon me. Although I
have never had a thought, and believe myself never to have done a
deed, which would tend to the prejudice of your service, or to the
detriment of true religion, nevertheless I take patience to bear
that which it has pleased the good God to permit. Therefore, I
pray your majesty to have compassion on my poor wife, my
children and my servants, having regard to my past service. In
which hope I now commend myself to the mercy of God. From
Brussels, ready to die, this 5th of June, 1568.
"Lamoral D' Egmont."
Thus died a man who did as much probably for Holland as
John Eliot for England, or Lafayette for France, or Samuel
Adams for this young republic.
appendices 401
The Woe of Belgium
And now out of all this glorious past comes the woe of Belgium.
Desolation has come like the whirlwind, and destruction like a
tornado. But ninety days ago and Belgium was a hive of in-
dustry, and in the fields were heard the harvest songs. Suddenly,
Germany struck Belgium. The whole world has but one voice,
"Belgium has innocent hands." She was led like a lamb to the
slaughter. When the lover of Germany is asked to explain
Germany's breaking of her solemn treaty upon the neutrality of
Belgium, the German stands dumb and speechless. Merchants
honor their written obligations. True citizens consider their
word as good as their bond; Germany gave treaty, and in the
presence of God and the civilized world, entered into a solemn
covenant with Belgium. To the end of time, the German must
expect this taunt, "as worthless as a German treaty." Scarcely
less black the two or three known examples of cruelty wrought
upon nonresisting Belgians. In Brooklyn lives a Belgian woman.
She planned to return home in late July to visit a father who had
suffered paralysis, an aged mother and a sister who nursed both.
When the Germans decided to bum that village in Eastern
Belgium, they did not wish to bum alive this old and helpless
man, so they bayonetted to death -the old man and woman, and
the daughter that nursed them.
Let us judge not, that we be not judged. This is the one
example of atrocity that you and I might be able personally to
prove. But every loyal German in the country can make answer:
"These soldiers were drunk with wine and blood. Such an
atrocity misrepresents Germany and her soldiers. The breaking
of Germany's treaty with Belgium represents the dishonor of a
military ring, and not the perfidy of 68,000,000 of people. We
ask that judgment be postponed until all the facts are in." But,
meanwhile, the man who loves his fellows, at midnight in his
dreams walks across the fields of broken Belgium. All through
the night air there comes the sob of Rachel, weeping for her
children, because they are not. In moods of bitterness, of doubt
and despair the heart cries out, "How could a just God permit
such cruelty upon innocent Belgium? " No man knows. "Clouds
and darkness are round about God's throne." The spirit of evil
caused this war, but the Spirit of God may bring good out of it,
just as the summer can repair the ravages of winter. Meanwhile
the heart bleeds for Belgium. For Brussels, the third most
beautiful city in Europe! For Louvain, once rich with its libra-
ries, cathedrals, statues, paintings, missals, manuscripts — now a
ruin. Alas! for the ruined harvests and the smoking villages!
Alas, for the Cathedral that is a heap, and the library that is a
ruin. Where the angel of happiness was there stalk Famine
and Death. Gone, the Land of Grotius! Perished the paintings
of Rubens! Ruined is Louvain. Where the wheat waved, now
402 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
the hillsides are billowy with graves. But let us believe that
God reigns. Perchance Belgium is slain like the Saviour, that
militarism may die like Satan. Without shedding of innocent
blood there is no remission of sins through tyranny and greed.
There is no wine without the crushing of the grapes from the
tree of life. Soon Liberty, God's dear child, mil stand within
the scene and comfort the desolate. Falling upon the great
world's altar stairs, in this hour when wisdom is ignorance, and
the strongest man clutches at dust and straw, let us believe with
faith victorious over tears, that some time God will gather
broken-hearted little Belgium into His arms and comfort her as
a Father comforteth his well-beloved child.
HENRY WATTERSON
THE NEW AMERICANISM
(Abridged)
Eight years ago tonight, there stood where I am standing now
a young Georgian, who, not without reason, recognized the
"significance" of his presence here, and, in words whose elo-
quence I cannot hope to recall, appealed from the New South
to New England for a united country.
He is gone now. But, short as his life was, its heaven-bom
mission was fulfilled; the dream of his childhood was realized;
for he had been appointed by God to carry a message of peace
on earth, good will to men, and, this done, he vanished from the
sight of mortal eyes, even as the dove from the ark.
Grady told us, and told us truly, of that typical American
who, in Dr. Talmage's mind's eye, was coming, but who, in
Abraham Lincoln's actuality, had already come. In some recent
studies into the career of that man, I have encountered many
startling confirmations of this judgment; and from that rugged
trunk, drawing its sustenance from gnarled roots, interlocked
with Cavalier sprays and Puritan branches deep beneath the
soil, shall spring, is springing, a shapely tree — symmetric in all
its parts — under whose sheltering boughs this nation shall have
the new birth of freedom Lincoln promised it, and mankind the
refuge which was sought by the forefathers when they fled from
oppression. Thank God, the ax, the gibbet, and the stake have
had their day. They have gone, let us hope, to keep company
with the lost arts. It has been demonstrated that great wrongs
may be redressed and great reforms be achieved without the
shedding of one drop of human blood; that vengeance does not
purify, but brutalizes; and that tolerance, which in private
transactions is reckoned a virtue, becomes in public affairs a
dogma of the most far-seeing statesmanship.
APPENDICES 403
So I appeal from the men in silken hose who danced to
music made by slaves — and called it freedom — from the men in
bell-crowned hats, who led Hester Prynne to her shame — and
called it religion — to that Americanism which reaches forth its
arms to smite wrong with reason and truth, secure in the power
of both. I appeal from the patriarchs of New England to the
poets of New England; from Endicott to Lowell ; fromWinthrop
to Longfellow; from Norton to Holmes; and I appeal in the
name and by the rights of that common citizenship — of that
common origin — back of both the Puritan and the Cavalier — to
which all of us owe our being. Let the dead past, consecrated
by the blood of its martyrs, not by its savage hatreds — darkened
alike by kingcraft and priestcraft — let the dead past bury its
dead. Let the present and the future ring with the song of the
singers. Blessed be the lessons they teach, the laws they make.
Blessed be the eye to see, the light to reveal. Blessed be Toler-
ance, sitting ever on the right hand of God to guide the way with
loving word, as blessed be all that brings us nearer the goal of
true religion, true Republicanism, and true patriotism, distrust
of watchwords and labels, shams and heroes, belief in our country
and ourselves. It was not Cotton Mather, but John Greenleaf
Whittier, who cried: —
" Dear God and Father of us all,
Forgive our faith in cruel lies.
Forgive the blindness that denies.
"Cast down our idols — overturn
Our bloody altars — make us see
Thyself in Thy humanity!"
JOHN MORLEY
founder's day address
(Abridged)
Carnegie Institute, Pittsburgh, Pa., November 3, 1904.
What is so hard as a just estimate of the events of our own
time? It is only now, a century and a half later, that we really
perceive that a writer has something to say for himself when he
calls Wolfe's exploit at Quebec the turning point in modem
history. And to-day it is hard to imagine any rational standard
that would not make the American Revolution — an insurrection
of thirteen little colonies, with a population of 3,000,000 scattered
in a distant wilderness among savages — a mightier event in many
of its aspects than the volcanic convulsion in France. Again,
the upbuilding of your great West on this continent is reckoned
404 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
by some the most important world movement of the last hundred
years. But is it more important than the amazing, imposing,
and perhaps disquieting apparition of Japan? One authority
insists that when Russia descended into the Far East and pushed
her frontier on the Pacific to the forty-third degree of latitude,
that was one of the most far-reaching facts of modem history,
tho it almost escaped the eyes of Europe — all her perceptions
then monopolized by affairs in the Levant. Who can say?
Many courses of the sun were needed before men could take the
full historic measures of Luther, Calvin, Knox; the measure of
Loyola, the Council of Trent, and all the counter-reformation.
The center of gravity is forever shifting, the political axis of the
world perpetually changing. But we are now far enough off to
discern how stupendous a thing was done when, after two cycles
of bitter war, one foreign, the other civil and intestine, Pitt and
Washington, within a span of less than a score of years, planted
the foundations of the American Republic.
What Forbes's stockade at Fort Pitt has grown to be you know
better than I. The huge triumphs of Pittsburg in material pro-
duction— iron, steel, coke, glass, and all the rest of it — can only
be told in colossal figures that are almost as hard to realize in
our minds as the figures of astronomical distance or geologic
time. It is not quite clear that all the founders of the Common-
wealth would have surveyed the wonderful scene with the same
exultation as their descendants. Some of them would have
denied that these great centers of industrial democracy either
in the Old World or in the New always stand for progress.
Jefferson said, "I view great cities as pestilential to the morals,
the health, and the liberties of man. I consider the class of
artificers," he went on, "as the panders of vice, and the instru-
ment by which the liberties of a country are generally over-
thrown." In England they reckon 70 per cent, of our popula-
tion as dwellers in towns. With you, I read that only 25 per
cent, of the population Hve in groups so large as 4,000 persons.
If Jefferson was right our outlook would be dark. Let us hope
that he was wrong, and in fact toward the end of his time qualified
his early view. Franklin, at any rate, would, I feel sure, have
reveled in it all.
That great man — a name in the forefront among the practical
intelligences of human history — once told a friend that when he
dwelt upon the rapid progress that mankind was making in
politics, morals, and the arts of living, and when he considered
that each one improvement always begets another, he felt assured
that the future progress of the race was likely to be quicker than
it had ever been. He was never wearied of foretelling inventions
yet to come, and he wished he could revisit the earth at the end
of a century to see how mankind was getting on. With all my
heart I share his wish. Of all the men who have built up great
APPENDICES 405
States, I do believe there is not one whose alacrity of sound sense
and single-eyed beneficence of aim could be more safely trusted
than Franklin to draw light from the clouds and pierce the eco-
nomic and political confusions of our time. We can imagine
the amazement and complacency of that shrewd benignant mind
if he could watch all the giant marvels of your mills and furnaces,
and all the apparatus devised by the wondrous inventive faculties
of man; if he could have foreseen that his experiments with the
kite in his garden at Philadelphia, his tubes, his Leyden jars
would end in the electric appUances of to-day — the largest
electric plant in all the world on the site of Fort Duquesne; if
he could have heard of 5,000,000,000 of passengers carried in
the United States by electric motor power in a year; if he could
have realized all the rest of the magician's tale of our time.
Still more' would he have been astounded and elated could he
have foreseen, beyond all advances in material production, the
unbroken strength of that political structure which he had so
grand a share in rearing. Into this very region where we are
this afternoon, swept wave after wave of immigration; English
from Virginia flowed over the border, bringing English traits,
literature, habits of mind; Scots, or Scoto-Irish, originally from
Ulster, flowed in from Central Pennsylvania; Catholics from
Southern Ireland; new hosts from Southern and East Central
Europe. This is not the Fourth of July. But people of every
school would agree that it is no exuberance of rhetoric, it is only
sober truth to say that the persevering absorption and incor-
poration of all this ceaseless torrent of heterogenous elements
into one united, stable, industrious, and pacific State is an
achievement that neither the Roman Empire nor the Roman
Church, neither Byzantine Empire nor Russian, not Charles the
Great nor Charles the Fifth nor Napoleon ever rivaled or ap-
proached.
We are usually apt to excuse the slower rate of liberal progress
in our Old World by contrasting the obstructive barriers of
prejudice, survival, solecism, anachronism, convention, institu-
tion, all so obstinately rooted, even when the branches seem bare
and broken, in an old world, with the open and disengaged ground
of the new. Yet in fact your difficulties were at least as formida-
ble as those of the older civilizations into whose fruitful heritage
you have entered. Unique was the necessity of this gigantic
task of incorporation, the assimilation of people of divers faiths
and race. A second difficulty was more formidable still — how to
erect and work a powerful and wealthy State on such a system as
to combine the centralized concert of a federal system with local
independence, and to unite collective energy with the encourage-
ment of individual freedom.
This last difficulty that you have so successfully up to now
surmounted, at the present hour confronts the mother country
406 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
and deeply perplexes her statesmen. Liberty and union have
been called the twin ideas of America. So, too, they are the
twin ideals of all responsible men in Great Britain; altho responsi-
ble men differ among themselves as to the safest path on which
to travel toward the common goal, and tho the dividing ocean,
in other ways so much our friend, interposes, for our case of an
island State, or rather for a group of island States, obstacles from
which a continental State like yours is happily altogether free.
Nobody believes that no difficulties remain. Some of them are
obvious. But the common-sense, the mixture of patience and
determination that has conquered risks and mischiefs in the
past, may be trusted with the future.
Strange and devious are the paths of history. Broad and
shining channels get mysteriously silted up. How many a time
what seemed a glorious high road proves no more than a mule
track or mere cul-de-sac. Think of Canning's flashing boast,
when he insisted on the recognition of the Spanish republics in
South America — that he had called a new world into existence
to redress the balance of the old. This is one of the sayings — of
which sort many another might be found — that make the fortime
of a rhetorician, yet stand ill the wear and tear of time and cir-
cumstance. The new world that Canning called into existence
has so far turned out a scene of singular disenchantment.
Tho not without glimpses on occasion of that heroism and
courage and even wisdom that are the attributes of man almost
at the worst, the tale has been too much a tale of anarchy and
disaster, still leaving a host of perplexities for statesmen both in
America and Europe. It has left also to students of a philosophic
turn of mind one of the most interesting of all the problems to be
found in the whole field of social, ecclesiastical, religious, and
racial movement. Why is it that we do not find in the south as
we find in the north of this hemisphere a powerful federation — a
great Spanish- American people stretching from the Rio Grande
to Cape Horn? To answer that question would be to shed a
flood of light upon many deep historic forces in the Old World,
of which, after all, these movements of the New are but a pro-
longation and more manifest extension.
What more imposing phenomenon does history present to us
than the rise of Spanish power to the pinnacle of greatness and
glory in the sixteenth century? The Mohammedans, after cen-
turies of fierce and stubborn war, driven back; the whole penin-
sula brought under a single rule with a single creed; enormous
acquisitions from the Netherlands of Naples, Sicily, the Canaries;
France humbled, England menaced, settlements made in Asia
and Northern Africa — Spain in America become possessed of a
vast continent and of more than one archipelago of splendid
islands. Yet before a century was over the sovereign majesty
of Spain underwent a huge declension, the territory under her
APPENDICES 407
sway was contracted, the fabulous wealth of the mines of the
New World had been wasted, agriculture and industry were
ruined, her commerce passed into the hands of her rivals.
Let me digress one further moment. We have a very sensible
habit in the island whence I come, when our country misses fire,
to say as little as we can, and sink the thing in patriotic oblivion.
It is rather startling to recall that less than a century ago Eng-
land twice sent a military force to seize what is now Argentina.
Pride of race and hostile creed vehemently resisting, proved too
much for us. The two expeditions ended in failure, and nothing
remains for the historian of to-day but to wonder what a differ-
ence it might have made to the temperate region of South
America if the fortune of war had gone the other way, if the
region of the Plata had become British, and a large British immi-
gration had followed. Do not think me guilty of the heinous
crime of forgetting the Monroe Doctrine. That momentous
declaration was not made for a good many years after our Gen.
Whitelocke was repulsed at Buenos Ayres, tho Mr. Sumner and
other people have always held that it was Canning who really
first started the Monroe Doctrine, when he invited the United
States to join him against European intervention in South
American affairs.
The day is at hand, we are told, when four-fifths of the human
race will trace their pedigree to English forefathers, as four-
fifths of the white people in the United States trace their pedigree
to-day. By the end of this century, they say, such nations as
France and Germany, assuming that they stand apart from
fresh consolidations, will only be able to claim the same relative
position in the political world as Holland and Switzerland. These
musings of the moon do not take us far. The important thing,
as we all know, is not the exact fraction of the human race that
will speak English. The important thing is that those who speak
English, whether in old lands or new, shall strive in lofty, gen-
erous and never-ceasing emulation with peoples of other tongues
and other stock for the political, social, and intellectual primacy
among mankind. In this noble strife for the service of our race
we need never fear that claimants for the prize will be too large
a multitude.
As an able scholar of your own has said, Jefferson was here
using the old vernacular of English aspirations after a free,
manly, and well-ordered political life — a vernacular rich in
stately tradition and noble phrase, to be found in a score of a
thousand of champions in many camps — in Buchanan, Milton,
Hooker, Locke, Jeremy Taylor, Roger Williams, and many
another humbler but not less strenuous pioneer and confessor of
freedom. Ah, do not fail to count up, and count up often, what
a different world it would have been but for that island in the
distant northern sea! These were the tributary fountains, that,
408 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
as time went on, swelled into the broad confluence of modem
time. What was new in 1776 was the transformation of thought
into actual polity.
What is progress? It is best to be slow in the complex arts of
politics in their widest sense, and not to hurry to define. If you
want a platitude, there is nothing for supplying it like a defini-
tion. Or shall we say that most definitions hang between plati-
tude and paradox? There are said, tho I have never coimted, to
be 10,000 definitions of religion. There must be about as many
of poetry. There can hardly be fewer of liberty, or even of
happiness.
I am not bold enough to try a definition. I will not try to
gauge how far the advance of moral forces has kept pace with
that extension of material forces in the world of which this con-
tinent, conspicuous before all others, bears such astounding
evidence. This, of course, is the question of questions, because
as an illustrious English writer — to whom, by the way, I owe my
friendship with your founder many long years ago — as Matthew
Arnold said in America here, it is moral ideas that at bottom
decide the standing or falling of states and nations. Without
opening this vast discussion at large, many a sign of progress is
beyond mistake. The practise of associated action — one of the
master keys of progress — is a new force in a hundred fields, and
with immeasurable diversity of forms. There is less acquiescence
in triumphant wrong. Toleration in religion has been called
the best fruit of the last four centuries, and in spite of a few
bigoted survivals, even in our United Kingdom, and some savage
outbreaks of hatred, half religious, half racial, on the Continent
of Europe, this glorious gain of time may now be taken as secured.
Perhaps of all the contributions of America to htunan civiliza-
tion this is greatest. The reign of force is not yet over, and at
intervals it has its triumphant hours, but reason, justice, hu-
manity fight with success their long and steady battle for a wider
sway.
Of all the points of social advance, in my country at least,
during the last generation none is more marked than the change
in the position of women, in respect of rights of property, of
education, of access to new callings. As for the improvement of
material well-being, and its diffusion among those whose labor
is a prime factor in its creation, we might grow sated with the
jubilant monotony of its figures, if we did not take good care to
remember, in the excellent words of the President of Harvard,
that those gains, like the prosperous working of your institu-
tions and the principles by which they are sustained, are in
essence moral contributions, "being principles of reason, enter-
prise, courage, faith, and justice, over passion, selfishness, inert-
ness, timidity, and distrust." It is the mor£d impulses that
matter. Where they are safe, all is safe.
APPENDICES 409
When this and the like is said, nobody supposes that the last
word has been spoken as to the condition of the people either in
America or Europe. Republicanism is not itself a panacea for
economic difficulties. Of self it can neither stifle nor appease the
accents of social discontent. So long as it has no root in sur-
veyed envy, this discontent itself is a token of progress.
What, cries the skeptic, what has become of all the hopes of
the time when France stood upon the top of golden hours? Do
not let us fear the challenge. Much has come of them. And over
the old hopes time has brought a stratum of new.
Liberalism is sometimes suspected of being cold to these new
hopes, and you may often hear it said that Liberalism is already
superseded by Socialism. That a change is passing over party
names in Europe is plain, but you may be sure that no change in
name wiU extinguish these principles of society which are rooted
in the nature of things, and are accredited by their success.
Twice America has saved Liberalism in Great Britain. The War
for Independence in the eighteenth century was the defeat of
usurping power no less in England than here. The War for Union
in the nineteenth century gave the decisive impulse to a critical
extension of suffrage, and an era of popular reform in*the mother
country. Any miscarriage of democracy here reacts against
progress in Great Britain.
If you seek the real meaning of most modem disparagement of
popular or parliamentary government, it is no more than this,
that no politics will siiffice of themselves to make a nation's soul.
What could be more true? Who says it will? But we may de-
pend upon it that the soul will be best kept alive in a nation where
there is the highest proportion of those who, in the phrase of
an old worthy of the seventeenth century, think it a part of a
man's religion to see to it that his country be well governed.
Democracy, they tell us, is afflicted by mediocrity and by
sterility. But has not democracy in my country, as in yours,
shown before now that it well knows how to choose rulers neither
mediocre nor sterile; men more than the equals in unselfishness,
in rectitude, in clear sight, in force, of any absolutist statesman,
that ever in times past bore the scepter? If I live a few months,
or it may be even a few weeks longer, I hope to have seen some-
thing of three elections — one in Canada, one in the United King-
dom, and the other here. With us, in respect of leadership, and
apart from height of social prestige, the personage corresponding
to the president is, as you know, the prime minister. Our gen-
eral election this time, owing to personal accident of the passing
hour, may not determine quite exactly who shall be the prime
minister, but it will determine the party from which the prime
minister shall be taken. On normal occasions our election of a
prime minister is as direct and personal as yours, and in choosing
a member of Parliament people were really for a whole generation
4IO THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
choosing whether Disraeli or Gladstone or Salisbury should be
head of the government.
The one central difference between your system and ours is
that the American president is in for a fixed time, whereas the
British prime minister depends upon the support of the House of
Commons. If he loses that, his power may not endure a twelve-
month; if on the other hand, he keeps it, he may hold office for
a dozen years. There are not many more interesting or impor-
tant questions in political discussion than the question whether
our cabinet government or your presidential system of govern-
ment is the better. This is not the place to argue it.
Between 1868 and now — a period of thirty-six years — we have
had eight ministries. This would give an average life of four and
a half years. Of these eight governments five lasted over five
years. Broadly speaking, then, our executive governments have
lasted about the length of your fixed term. As for ministers
swept away by a gust of passion, I can only recall the overthrow
of Lord Palmerston in 1858 for being thought too subservient
to France. For my own part, I have always thought that by its
free play, its comparative fluidity, its rapid flexibility of adapta-
tion, our cabinet system has most to say for itself.
Whether democracy will make for peace, we all have yet to see.
So far democracy has done little in Europe to protect us against
the turbid whirlpools of a military age. When the evils of rival
states, antagonistic races, territorial claims, and all the other
formulae of international conflict are felt to be unbearable and
the curse becomes too great to be any longer borne, a school of
teachers will perhaps arise to pick up again the thread of the best
writers and wisest rulers on the eve of the revolution. Movement
in this region of human things has not all been progressive. If
we survey the European courts from the end of the Seven Years'
War down to the French Revolution, we note the marked growth
of a distinctly international and pacific spirit. At no era in the
world's history can we find so many European statesmen after
peace and the good government of which peace is the best ally.
That sentiment came to violent end when Napoleon arose to
scourge the world.
ROBERT TOOMBS
ON RESIGNING FROM THE SENATE, 1861
(Abridged)
The success of the Abolitionists and their allies, under the
name of the Republican party, has produced its logical results
already. They have for long years been sowing dragons' teeth
and have finally got a crop of armed men. The Union, sir, is
dissolved. That is an accomplished fact in the path of this dis-
APPENDICES 411
cussion that men may as well heed. One of your confederates
has already wisely, bravely, boldly confronted public danger,
and she is only ahead of many of her sisters because of her greater
facility for speedy action. The greater majority of those sister
States, under like circumstances, consider her cause as their
cause; and I charge you in their name to-day: "Touch not
Saguntum."^ It is not only their cause, but it is a cause which
receives the sympathy and will receive the support of tens and
hundreds of honest patriot men in the nonslaveholding States,
who have hitherto maintained constitutional rights, and who
respect their oaths, abide by compacts, and love justice.
And while this Congress, this Senate, and this House of Repre-
sentatives are debating the constitutionality and the expediency
of seceding from the Union, and while the perfidious authors of
this mischief are showering down denunciations upon a large
portion of the patriotic men of this country, those brave men are
coolly and calmly voting what you call revolution — aye, sir,
doing better than that: arming to defend it. They appealed to
the Constitution, they appealed to justice, they appealed to
fraternity, until the Constitution, justice, and fraternity were
no longer listened to in the legislative halls of their country, and
then, sir, they prepared for the arbitrament of the sword; and
now you see the glittering bayonet, and you hear the tramp of
armed men from your capitol to the Rio Grande. It is a sight
that gladdens the eyes and cheers the hearts of other millions
ready to second them. Inasmuch, sir, as I have labored earnestly,
honestly, sincerely, with these men to avert this necessity so long
as I deemed it possible, and inasmuch as I heartily approve their
present conduct of resistance, I deem it my duty to state their
case to the Senate, to the country, and to the civilized world.
Senators, my countrymen have demanded no new government;
they have demanded no new Constitution. Look to their records
at home and here from the beginning of this national strife until
its consummation in the disruption of the empire, and they have
not demanded a single thing except that you shall abide by the
Constitution of the United States; that constitutional rights
shall be respected, and that justice shall be done. Sirs, they have
stood by your Constitution; they have stood by all its require-
ments, they have performed all its duties unselfishly, uncalculat-
ingly, disinterestedly, until a party sprang up in this country
which endangered their social system — a party which they ar-
raign, and which they charge before the American people and all
mankind with having made proclamation of outlawry against
four thousand millions of their property in the Territories of the
United States; with having put them under the ban of the empire
^aguntum was a city of Iberia (Spain) in alliance with Rome. Hannibal,
in spite of Rome's warnings in 219 B. C, laid siege to and captured it. This
became the immediate cause of the war which Rome declared against Carthage.
412 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
in all the States in which their institutions exist outside the pro-
tection of federal laws; with having aided and abetted insur-
rection from within and invasion from without with the view of
subverting those institutions, and desolating their homes and
their firesides. For these causes they have taken up arms.
I have stated that the discontented States of this Union have
demanded nothing but clear, distinct, unequivocal, well-
acknowledged constitutional rights — rights affirmed by the
highest judicial tribunals of their country; rights older than the
Constitution; rights which are planted upon the immutable
principles of natural justice; rights which have been affirmed by
the good and the wise of all countries, and of all centuries. We
demand no power to injure any man. We demand no right to
injure our confederate States. We demand no right to interfere
with their institutions, either by word or deed. We have no
right to disturb their peace, their tranquillity, their security. We
have demanded of them simply, solely — nothing else — to give us
equality, security and tranquillity. Give us these, and peace
restores itself. Refuse them, and take what you can get.
What do the rebels demand? First, "that the people of the
United States shall have an equal right to emigrate and settle
in the present or any future acquired Territories, with whatever
property they may possess (including slaves), and be securely
protected in its peaceable enjoyment until such Territory may
be admitted as a State into the Union, with or without slavery,
as she may determine, on an equality with all existing States."
That is our Territorial demand. We have fought for this Terri-
tory when blood was its price. We have paid for it when gold
was its price. We have not proposed to exclude you, tho you
have contributed very little of blood or money. I refer especially
to New England. We demand only to go into those Territories
upon terms of equality with you, as equals in this great Confed-
eracy, to enjoy the common property of the whole Union, and
receive the protection of the conimon government, until the
Territory is capable of coming into the Union as a sovereign
State, when it may fix its own institutions to suit itself.
The second proposition is, "that property in slaves shall be
entitled to the same protection from the government of the United
States, in all of its departments, everywhere, which the Constitu-
tion confers the power upon it to extend to any other property,
provided nothing herein contained shall be construed to liniit
or restrain the right now belonging to every State to prohibit,
abolish, or establish and protect slavery within its limits." We
demand of the common government to use its granted powers to
protect our property as weU as yours. For this protection we pay
as much as you do. This very property is subject to taxation.
It has been taxed by you and sold by you for taxes.
The title to thousands and tens of thousands of slaves is de-
APPENDICES 413
rived from the United States. We claim that the government,
while the Constitution recognizes our property for the purposes
of taxation, shall give it the same protection that it gives yours.
Ought it not to be so? You say no. Every one of you upon
the committee said no. Your senators say no. Your House of
Representatives says no. Throughout the length and breadth
of your conspiracy against the Constitution there is but one
shout of no! This recognition of this right is the price of my
^egiance. Withhold it, and you do not get my obedience. This
is the philosophy of the armed men who have sprung up in this
country. Do you ask me to support a government that will tax
my property; that will plunder me; that will demand my blood,
and will not protect me? I would rather see the population of
my native State laid six feet beneath her sod than they should
support for one hour such a government. Protection is the price
of obedience everywhere, in aU countries. It is the only thing
that makes government respectable. Deny it and you can not
have free subjects or citizens; you may have slaves.
We demand, in the next place, "that persons committing
crimes against slave property in one State, and fleeing to another,
shall be delivered up in the same manner as persons committing
crimes against other property, and that the laws of the State
from which such persons flee shall be the test of criminality."
That is another one of the demands of an extremist and a rebel.
But the nonslaveholding States, treacherous to their oaths and
compacts, have steadily refused, if the criminal only stole a negro
and that negro was a slave, to deliver him up. It was refused
twice on the requisition of my own State as long as twenty-two
years ago. It was refused by Kent and by Fairfield, governors
of Maine, and representing, I believe, each of the then federal
parties. We appealed then to fraternity, but we submitted; and
this constitutional right has been practically a dead letter from
that day to this. The next case came up between us and the
State of New York, when the present senior senator [Mr. Seward]
was the governor of that State; and he refused it. Why? He
said it was not against the laws of New York to steal a negro, and
therefore he would not comply with the demand. He made a
similar refusal to Virginia. Yet these are our confederates;
these are our sister States! There is the bargain; there is the
compact. You have sworn to it. Both these governors swore
to it. The senator from New York swore to it. The governor
of Ohio swore to it when he was inaugurated. You can not bind
them by oaths. Yet they talk to us of treason; and I suppose
they expect to whip freemen into loving such brethren! They
will have a good time in doing it!
It is natural we should want this provision of the Constitution
carried out. The Constitution says slaves are property; the
Supreme Court says so; the Constitution says so. The theft of
414 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
slaves is a crime; they are a subject-matter of felonious asporta-
tion. By the text and letter of the Constitution you agreed to
give them up. You have sworn to do it, and you have broken
your oaths. Of course, those who have done so look out for pre-
texts. Nobody expected them to do otherwise. I do not think
I ever saw a perjurer, however bald and naked, who could not
invent some pretext to palliate his crime, or who could not, for
fifteen shillings, hire an Old Bailey lawyer to invent some for him.
Yet this requirement of the Constitution is another one of the
extreme demands of an extremist and a rebel.
The next stipulation is that fugitive slaves shall be surrendered
under the provisions of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850, without
being entitled either to a writ of habeas corpus, or trial by jury,
or other similar obstructions of legislation, in the State to which
he may flee. Here is the Constitution:
"No person held to service or labor in one State, under the
laws thereof, escaping into another, shall, in consequence of
any law or regulation therein, be discharged from such service
or labor, but shall be delivered up on claim of the party to
whom such service or labor may be due."
This language is plain, and everybody understood it the same
way for the first forty years of your government. In 1793, in
Washington's time, an act was passed to carry out this provision.
It was adopted unanimously in the Senate of the United States,
and nearly so in the House of Representatives. Nobody then
had invented pretexts to show that the Constitution did not
mean a negro slave. It was clear; it was plain. Not only the
federal courts, but aU the local courts in all the States, decided
that this was a constitutional obligation. How is it now? The
North sought to evade it; following the instincts of their natural
character, they commenced with the fraudulent fiction that
fugitives were entitled to habeas corpus, entitled to trial by jury
in the State to which they fled. They pretended to believe that
our fugitive slaves were entitled to more rights than their white
citizens; perhaps they were right, they know one another better
than I do. You may charge a white man with treason, or felony,
or other crime, and you do not require any trial by jury before
he is given up; there is nothing to determine but that he is
legally charged with a crime and that he fled, and then he is to be
delivered up upon demand. White people are delivered up every
day in this way; but not slaves. Slaves, black people, you say,
are entitled to trial by jury; and in this way schemes have been
invented to defeat your plain constitutional obligations.
Senators, the Constitution is a compact. It contains all our
obligations and the duties of the federal government. I am con-
tent and have ever been content to sustain it. While I doubt its
perfection, while I do not believe it was a good compact, and
APPENDICES 415
while I never saw the day that I would have voted for it as a
proposition de novo, yet I am bound to it by oath and by that
common prudence which would induce men to abide by estab-
lished forms rather than to rush into unknown dangers. I have
given to it, and intend to give to it, unfaltering support and
allegiance, but I choose to put that allegiance on the true ground,
not on the false idea that anybody's blood was shed for it. I say
that the Constitution is the whole compact. All the obligations,
all the chains that fetter the limbs of my people, are nominated
in the bond, and they wisely excluded any conclusion against
them, by declaring that "the powers not granted by the Consti-
tution to the United States, or forbidden by it to the States,
belonged to the States respectively or the people."
Now I will try it by that standard; I will subject it to that
test. The law of nature, the law of justice, would say — and it is
so expounded by the publicists — that equal rights in the common
property shall be enjoyed. Even in a monarchy the king can not
prevent the subjects from enjoying equality in the disposition
of the public property. Even in a despotic government this
principle is recognized. It was the blood and the money of the
whole people (says the learned Grotius, and say all the publicists)
which acquired the public property, and therefore it is not the
property of the sovereign. This right of equality being, then,
according to justice and natural equity, a right belonging to all
States, when did we give it up? You say Congress has a right to
pass rules and regulations concerning the Territory and other
property of the United States. Very well. Does that exclude
those whose blood and money paid for it? Does "dispose of"
mean to rob the rightful owners? You must show a better title
than that, or a better sword than we have.
What, then, will you take? You will take nothing but your
own judgment; that is, you will not only judge for yourselves,
not only discard the court, discard our construction, discard the
practise of the government, but you will drive us out, simply
because you will it. Come and do it! You have sapped the
foundations of society; you have destroyed almost all hope of
peace. In a compact where there is no common arbiter, where
the parties finally decide for themselves, the sword alone at last
becomes the real, if not the constitutional, arbiter. Your party
says that you will not take the decision of the Supreme Court.
You said so at Chicago; you said so in committee ; every man of
you in both Houses says so. What are you going to do? You
say we shall submit to your construction. We shall do it, if
you can make us; but not otherwise, or in any other manner.
That is settled. You may call it secession, or you may call
it revolution; but there is a big fact standing before you,
ready to oppose you — that fact is, freemen with arms in their
hands.
4l6 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
THEODORE ROOSEVELT '
INAUGURAL ADDRESS
(1905)
My Fellow Citizens: — No people on earth have more cause
to be thankful than ours, and this is said reverently, in no spirit
of boastfulness in our own strength, but with gratitude to the
Giver of Good, Who has blessed us with the conditions which
have enabled us to achieve so large a measure of well-being and
happiness.
To us as a people it has been granted to lay the fovmdations of
our national life in a new contment. We are the heirs of the
ages, and yet we have had to pay few of the penalties which in
old countries are exacted by the dead hand of a bygone civiliza-
tion. We have not been obliged to fight for our existence against
any alien race; and yet our life has called for the vigor and effort
without which the manlier and hardier virtues wither away.
Under such conditions it would be our own fault if we failed,
and the success which we have had in the past, the success which
we confidently believe the future will bring, should cause in us
no feeling of vainglory, but rather a deep and abiding realization
of all that life has offered us; a full acknowledgment of the
responsibility which is ours; and a fixed determination to show
that under a free government a mighty people can thrive best,
alike as regard the things of the body and the things of the soul.
Much has been given to us, and much will rightfully be ex-
pected from us. We have duties to others and duties to ourselves
— ^and we can shirk neither. We have become a great nation,
forced by the fact of its greatness into relation to the other na-
tions of the earth, and we must behave as beseems a people with
such responsibilities.
Toward all other nations, large and small, our attitude must
be one of cordial and sincere friendship. We must show not only
in our words but in our deeds that we are earnestly desirous of
securing their good will by acting toward them in a spirit of just
and generous recognition of all their rights.
But justice and generosity in a nation, as in an individual,
count most when shown not by the weak but by the strong.
While ever careful to refrain from wronging others, we must be
no less insistent that we are not wronged ourselves. We wish
peace; but we wish the peace of justice, the peace of righteous-
ness. We wish it because we think it is right, and not because
we are afraid. No weak nation that acts rightly and justly
should ever have cause to fear, and no strong power should ever
be able to single us out as a subject for insolent aggression.
Our relations with the other powers of the world are important;
but still more important are our relations among ourselves. Such
APPENDICES 417
growth in wealth, in population, and in power, as a nation has
seen during a century and a quarter of its national life, is inevita-
bly accompanied by a like growth in the problems which are ever
before every nation that rises to greatness. Power invariably
means both responsibility and danger. Our forefathers faced
certain perils which we have outgrown. We now face other perils
the very existence of which it was impossible that they should
foresee.
Modem life is both complex and intense, and the tremendous
changes wrought by the extraordinary industrial development
of the half century are felt in every fiber of our social and political
being. Never before have men tried so vast and formidable an
experiment as that of administering the affairs of a continent
under the forms of a democratic republic. The conditions which
have told for our marvelous material well-being, which have
developed to a very high degree our energy, self-reliance, and
individual initiative, also have brought the care and anxiety
inseparable from the accumulation of great wealth in industrial
centers.
Upon the success of our experiment much depends — not only
as regards our own welfare, but as regards the welfare of mankind.
If we fail, the cause of free self-government throughout the world
will rock to its foundations, and therefore our responsibility is
heavy, to ourselves, to the world as it is to-day, and to the genera-
tions yet unborn.
There is no good reason why we should fear the future, but
there is every reason why we should face it seriously, neither
hiding from ourselves the gravity of the problems before us, nor
fearing to approach these problems with the unbending, unflinch-
ing purpose to solve them aright.
Yet after all, tho the problems are new, tho the tasks set before
us differ from the tasks set before our fathers, who founded and
and preserved this Republic, the spirit in which these tasks must
be imdertaken and these problems faced, if our duty is to be well
done, remains essentially unchanged. We know that self-
government is difficult. We know that no people needs such high
traits of character as that people which seeks to govern its affairs
aright through the freely expressed will of the free men who com-
pose it.
But we have faith that we shall not prove false to memories of
the men of the mighty past. They did their work; they left us
the splendid heritage we now enjoy. We in our turn have an
assured confidence that we shall be able to leave this heritage
unwasted and enlarged to our children's children.
To do so, we must show, not merely in great crises, but in the
every-day affairs of life, the qualities of practical intelligence, of
courage, of hardihood, and endurance, and, above all, the power
of devotion to a lofty ideal, which made great the men who
4l8 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
founded this Republic in the days of Washington; which made
great the men who preserved this Republic in the days of
Abraham Lincoln.
ON AMERICAN MOTHERHOOD
(1905)
In our modem industrial civilization there are many and grave
dangers to counterbalance the splendors and the tnumphs. It
is not a good thing to see cities grow at disproportionate speed
relatively to the country; for the small land owners, the men
who own their little homes, and therefore to a very large extent
the men who till farms, the men of the soil, have hitherto made
the foundation of lasting national life in every State; and, if the
foundation becomes either too weak or too narrow, the super-
structure, no matter how attractive, is in imminent danger of
falling.
But far more important than the question of the occupation
of our citizens is the question of how their family life is conducted.
No matter what that occupation may be, as long as there is a real
home and as long as those who make up that home do their duty
to one another, to their neighbors and to the State, it is of minor
consequence whether the man's trade is plied in the country or
in the city, whether it calls for the work of the hands or for the
work of the head.
No piled-up wealth, no splendor of material growth, no bril-
liance of artistic development, will permanently avail any people
tmless its home life is healthy, unless the average man possesses
honesty, courage, common sense, and decency, unless he works
hard and is willing at need to fight hard; and unless the average
woman is a good wife, a good mother, able and willing to per-
form the first and greatest duty of womanhood, able and willing
to bear, and to bring up as they should be brought up, healthy
children, sound in body, mind, and character, and numerous
enough so that the race shall increase and not decrease.
There are certain old truths which will be true as long as this
world endures, and which no amount of progress can alter. One
of these is the truth that the primary duty of the husband is to be
the home-maker, the breadwinner for his wife and children, and
that the primary duty of the woman is to be the helpmate, the
house-wife, and mother. The woman should have ample educa-
tional advantages; but save in exceptional cases the man must
be, and she need not be, and generally ought not to be, trained
for a lifelong career as the family breadwinner; and, therefore,
^From his speech in Washington on March 13, 1905, before the National
Congress of Mothers. Printed from a copy furnished by the president for this
collection, in response to a request.
APPENDICES 419
after a certain point, the training of the two must normally be
different because the duties of the two are normally different.
This does not mean inequality of function, but it does mean that
normally there must be dissimilarity of function. On the whole,
I think the duty of the woman the more important, the more
difficult, and the more honorable of the two; on the whole I
respect the woman who does her duty even more than I respect
the man who does his.
No ordinary work done by a man is either as hard or as re-
sponsible as the work of a woman who is bringing up a family of
small children; for upon her time and strength demands are made
not only every hour of the day but often every hour of the night.
She may have to get up night after night to take care of a sick
child, and yet must by day continue to do all her household
duties as well ; and if the f arnily means are scant she must usually
enjoy even her rare holidays taking her whole brood of children
with her. The birth pangs make all men the debtors of all
women. Above all our sympathy and regard are due to the
struggling wives among those whom Abraham Lincoln called
the plain people, and whom he so loved and trusted; for the lives
of these women are often led on the lonely heights of quiet, self-
sacrificing heroism.
Just as the happiest and most honorable and most useful task
that can be set any man is to earn enough for the support of his
wife and family, for the bringing up and starting in life of his
children, so the most important, the most honorable and desira-
ble task which can be set any woman is to be a good and wise
mother in a home marked by self-respect and mutual forbearance,
by willingness to perform duty, and by refusal to sink into self-
indulgence or avoid that which entails effort and self-sacrifice.
Of course there are exceptional men and exceptional women who
can do and ought to do much more than this, who can lead and
ought to lead great careers of outside usefulness in addition to —
not as substitutes for — their home work; but I am not speaking
of exceptions; I am speaking of the primary duties, I am speaking
of the average citizens, the average men and women who make
up the nation.
Inasmuch as I am speaking to an assemblage of mothers, I
shall have nothing whatever to say in praise of an easy life. Yours
is the work which is never ended. No mother has an easy time,
the most mothers have very hard times; and yet what true
mother would barter her experience of joy and sorrow in exchange
for a life of cold selfishness, which insists upon perpetual amuse-
ment and the avoidance of care, and which often finds its fit
dwelling place in some flat designed to furnish with the least
possible expenditure of effort the maximum of comfort and of
luxury, but in which there is literally no place for children?
The woman who is a good wife, a good mother, is entitled to
420 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
our respect as is no one else; but she is entitled to it only because,
and so long as, she is worthy of it. Effort and self-sacrifice are
the law of worthy life for the man as for the woman ; tho neither
the effort nor the self-sacrifice may be the same for the one as for
the other. I do not in the least believe in the patient Griselda
type of woman, in the woman who submits to gross and long
continued ill treatment, any more than I believe in a man who
tamely submits to wrongful aggression. No wrong-doing is so
abhorrent as wrong-doing by a man toward the wife and the
children who should arouse every tender feeling in his nature.
Selfishness toward them, lack of tenderness toward them, lack
of consideration for them, above all, brutality in any form toward
them, should arouse the heartiest scorn and indignation in every
upright soul.
I believe in the woman keeping her self-respect just as I believe
in the man doing so. I believe in her rights just as much as I
believe in the man's, and indeed a little more; and I regard
marriage as a partnership, in which each partner is in honor
bound to think of the rights of the other as well as of his or her
own. But I think that the duties are even more important than
the rights; and in the long run I think that the reward is ampler
and greater for duty well done, than for the insistence upon
individual rights, necessary tho this, too, must often be. Your
duty is hard, your responsibility great; but greatest of all is
your reward. I do not pity you in the least. On the contrary,
I feel respect and admiration for you.
Into the woman's keeping is committed the destiny of the
generations to come after us. In bringing up your children you
mothers must remember that while it is essential to be loving
and tender it is no less essential to be wise and firm. Foolishness
and affection must not be treated as interchangeable terms;
and besides training your sons and daughters in the softer and
milder virtues, you must seek to give them those stem and hardy
qualities which in after life they will surely need. Some children
will go wrong in spite of the best training; and some will go
right even when their surroundings are most unfortunate ; never-
theless an immense amount depends upon the family training.
If you mothers through weakness bring up your sons to be selfish
and to think only of themselves, you will be responsible for much
sadness among the women who are to be their wives in the future.
If you let your daughters grow up idle, perhaps under the mis-
taken impression that as you yourselves have had to work hard
they shall know only enjoyment, you are preparing them to be
useless to others and burdens to themselves. Teach boys and
girls alike that they are not to look forward to lives spent in
avoiding difficulties, but to lives spent in overcoming difficulties.
Teach them that work, for themselves and also for others, is not
a curse but a blessing; seek to make them happy, to make them
APPENDICES 421
enjoy life, but seek also to make them face life with the steadfast
resolution to wrest success from labor and adversity, and to do
their whole duty before God and to man. Surely she who can thus
train her sons and her daughters is thrice fortunate among women.
There are many good people who are denied the supreme bless-
ing of children, and for these we have the respect and sympathy
always due to those who, from no fault of their own, are denied
any of the other great blessings of life. But the man or woman
who deliberately foregoes these blessings, whether from vicious-
ness, coldness, shallow-heartedness, self-indulgence, or mere
failure to appreciate aright the difference between the all-
important and the unimportant, — why, such a creature merits
contempt as hearty as any visited upon the soldier who runs
away in battle, or upon the man who refuses to work for the
support of those dependent upon him, and who tho able-bodied
is yet content to eat in idleness the bread which others provide.
The existence of women of this type forms one of the most
unpleasant and unwholesome features of modem life. If any
one is so dim of vision as to fail to see what a thoroughly unlovely
creature such a woman is I wish they would read Judge Robert
Grant's novel "Unleavened Bread," ponder seriously the char-
acter of Selma, and think of the fate that would surely overcome
any nation which developed its average and typical woman along
such lines. Unfortunately it would be untrue to say that this
type exists only in American novels. That it also exists in Ameri-
can life is made unpleasantly evident by the statistics as to the
dwindling families in some localities. It is made evident in
equally sinister fashion by the census statistics as to divorce,
which are fairly appalling; for easy divorce is now as it ever has
been, a bane to any nation, a curse to society, a menace to the
home, an incitement to married unhappiness and to immorality,
an evil thing for men and a still more hideous evil for women.
These unpleasant tendencies in our American life are made
evident by articles such as those which I actually read not long
ago in a certain paper, where a clergyman was quoted, seemingly
with approval, as expressing the general American attitude when
he said that the ambition of any save a very rich man should be
to rear two children only, so as to give his children an opportunity
"to taste a few of the good things of life."
This man, whose profession and calling should have made him
a moral teacher, actually set before others the ideal, not of train-
ing children to do their duty, not of sending them forth with
stout hearts and ready minds to win triumphs for themselves
and their country, not of allowing them the opportunity, and
giving them the privilege of making their own place in the world,
but, forsooth, of keeping the number of children so limited that
they might "taste a few good things!" The way to give a child
a fair chance in life is not to bring it up in luxury, but to see that
422 THE ART OF PUBUC SPEAKING
it has the kind of training that will give it strength of character.
Even apart from the vital question of national life, and regarding
only the individual interest of the children themselves, happi-
ness in the true sense is a hundredfold more apt to come to any
given member of a healthy family of healthy-minded children,
well brought up, well educated, but taught that they must shift
for themselves, must win their own way, and by their own exer-
tions make their own positions of usefulness, than it is apt to
come to those whose parents themselves have acted on and have
trained their children to act on, the selfish and sordid theory
that the whole end of life is to "taste a few good things."
The intelligence of the remark is on a par with its morality;
for the most rudimentary mental process would have shown the
speaker that if the average family in which there are children
contained but two children the nation as a whole would decrease
in population so rapidly that in two or three generations it would
very deservedly be on the point of extinction, so that the people
who had acted on this base and selfish doctrine would be giving
place to others with braver and more robust ideals. Nor would
such a result be in any way regrettable; for a race that practised
such doctrine — that is, a race that practised race suicide — would
thereby conclusively show that it was unfit to exist, and that it
had better give place to people who had not forgotten the primary
laws of their being.
To sum up, then, the whole matter is simple enough. If either
a race or an individual prefers the pleasure of more effortless
ease, of self-indulgence, to the infinitely deeper, the infinitely
higher pleasures that come to those who know the toil and the
weariness, but also the joy, of hard duty well done, why, that
race or that individual must inevitably in the end pay the penalty
of leading a life both vapid and ignoble. No man and no woman
really worthy of the name can care for the life spent solely or
chiefly in the avoidance of risk and trouble and labor. Save in
exceptional cases the prizes worth having in life must be paid
for, and the life worth living must be a life of work for a worthy
end, and ordinarily of work more for others than for one's self.
The woman's task is not easy — no task worth doing is easy —
but in doing it, and when she has done it, there shall come to her
the highest and holiest joy known to mankind; and having done
it, she shall have the reward prophesied in Scripture; for her
husband and her children, yes, and all people who realize that
her work lies at the foundation of all national happiness and
greatness, shall rise up and call her blessed.
APPENDICES 423
ALTON B. PARKER
THE CALL TO DEMOCRATS
From a speech opening the National Democratic
Convention at Baltimore, Md., June, 1912.
It is not the wild and cruel methods of revolution and violence
that are needed to correct the abuses incident to our Government
as to all things human. Neither material nor moral progress
lies that way. We have made our Government and our com-
plicated institutions by appeals to reason, seeking to educate
all our people that, day after day, year after year, century after
century, they may see more clearly, act more justly, become
more and more attached to the fimdamental ideas that underlie
our society. If we are to preserve undiminished the heritage
bequeathed us, and add to it those accretions without which
society would perish, we shall need all the powers that the school,
the church, the court, the deliberative assembly, and the quiet
thought of our people can bring to bear.
We are called upon to do battle against the imfaithful guardians
of our Constitution and liberties and the hordes of ignorance
which are pushing forward only to the ruin of our social and
governmental fabric.
Too long has the country endured the offenses of the leaders of a
party which once knew greatness. Too long have we been blind to
the bacchanal of corruption. Too long have we listlessly watched the
assembling of the forces that threaten our country and our firesides.
The time has come when the salvation of the country demands
the restoration to place and power of men of high ideals who will
wage unceasing war against corruption in politics, who will
enforce the law against both rich and poor, and who will treat
guilt as personal and punish it accordingly.
What is our duty? To think alike as to men and measures?
Impossible ! Even for our great party ! There is not a reactionary
among us. All Democrats are Progressives. But it is inevitably
himian that we shall not all agree that in a single highway is
foimd the only road to progress, or each make the same man of
all our worthy candidates his first choice.
It is impossible, however, and it is our duty to put aside all
selfishness, to consent cheerfully that the majority shall speak
for each of us, and to march out of this convention shoulder to
shoulder, intoning the praises of our chosen leader — and that
will be his due, whichever of the honorable and able men now
claiming our attention shall be chosen.
424 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
JOHN W. WESCOTT
NOMINATING WOODROW WILSON
At the National Democratic Convention, Baltimore,
Maryland, June, 1912.
The New Jersey delegation is commissioned to represent the
great cause of Democracy and to offer you as its militant and
triumphant leader a scholar, not a charlatan; a statesman, not
a doctrinaire; a profound lawyer, not a splitter of legal hairs;
a political economist, not an egotistical theorist; a practical
politician, who constructs, modifies, restrains, without disturb-
ance and destruction; a resistless debater and consummate
master of statement, not a mere sophist; a humanitarian, not a
defamer of characters and lives; a man whose mind is at once
cosmopolitan and composite of America; a gentleman of unpre-
tentious habits, with the fear of God in his heart and the love of
mankind exhibited in every act of his life; above all a public
servant who has been tried to the uttermost and never found
wanting — matchless, unconquerable, the ultimate Democrat,
Woodrow Wilson.
New Jersey has reasons for her course. Let us not be deceived
in our premises. Campaigns of vilification, corruption and false
pretence have lost their usefulness. The evolution of national
energy is towards a more intelligent morality in politics and in
all other relations. The situation admits of no compromise.
The temper and purpose of the American public will tolerate
no other view. The indifference of the American people to
politics has disappeared. Any platform and any candidate not
conforming to this vast social and commercial behest will go
down to ignominious defeat at the polls.
Men are known by what they say and do. They are known
by those who hate and oppose them. Many years ago Woodrow
Wilson said, "No man is great who thinks himself so, and no
man is good who does not try to secure the happiness and com-
fort of others." This is the secret of his life. The deeds of this
moral and intellectual giant are known to all men. They accord,
not with the shams and false pretences of politics, but make
national harmony with the millions of patriots determined to
correct the wrongs of plutocracy and reestablish the maxims of
American liberty in all their regnant beauty and practical effec-
tiveness. New Jersey loves Woodrow Wilson not for the enemies
he has made. New Jersey loves him for what he is. New Jersey
argues that Woodrow Wilson is the only candidate who can not
only make Democratic success a certainty, but secure the
electoral vote of almost every State in the Union.
New Jersey will indorse his nomination by a majority of
100,000 of her liberated citizens. We are not building for a day,
or even a generation, but for all time. New Jersey believes that
APPENDICES 425
there is an omniscience in national instinct. That instinct
centers in Woodrow Wilson. He has been in political life less
than two years. He has had no organization; only a practical
ideal — the reestablishment of equal opportunity. Not his deeds
alone, not his immortal words alone, not his personality alone,
not" his matchless powers alone, but all combined compel national
faith and confidence in him. Every crisis evolves its master.
Time and circumstance have evolved Woodrow Wilson. The
North, the South, the East, and the West unite in him. New
Jersey appeals to this convention to give the nation Woodrow
Wilson, that he may open the gates of opportunity to every man,
woman, and child under our flag, by reforming abuses, and
thereby teaching them, in his matchless words, "to release their
energies intelligently, that peace, justice and prosperity may
reign." New Jersey rejoices, through her freely chosen repre-
sentatives, to name for the presidency of the United States the
Princeton schoolmaster, Woodrow Wilson.
HENRY W. GRADY
THE RACE PROBLEM
Delivered at the annual banquet of the Boston Mer-
chants' Association, at Boston, Mass., December 12, 1889.
Mr. President: — Bidden by your invitation to a discussion
of the race problem — forbidden by occasion to make a political
speech — I appreciate, in trying to reconcile orders with pro-
priety, the perplexity of the little maid, who, bidden to learn to
swim, was yet adjured, " Now, go, my darling; hang your clothes
on a hickory limb, and don't go near the water."
The stoutest apostle of the Church, they say, is the missionary,
and the missionary, wherever he unfurls his flag, will never find
himself in deeper need of unction and address than I, bidden
to-night to plant the standard of a Southern Democrat in Boston's
banquet hall, and to discuss the problem of the races in the home
of Phillips and of Sumner. But, Mr. President, if a purpose to
speak in perfect frankness and sincerity; if earnest understand-
ing of the vast interests involved ; if a consecrating sense of what
disaster may follow further misunderstanding and estrangement;
if these may be counted upon to steady undisciplined speech and
to strengthen an untried arm — then, sir, I shall find the courage
to proceed.
Happy am I that this mission has brought my feet at last to
press New England's historic soil and my eyes to the knowledge
of her beauty and her thrift. Here within touch of Plymouth
Rock and Bunker Hill — where Webster thundered and Long-
fellow sang, Emerson thought and Channing preached — here,
in the cradle of American letters and almost of American liberty,
426 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
I hasten to make the obeisance that every American owes New
England when first he stands uncovered in her mighty presence.
Strange apparition! This stem and unique figure — carved from
the ocean and the wilderness — ^its majesty kindling and growing
amid the storms of winter and of wars — until at last the gloom
was broken, its beauty disclosed in the sunshine, and the heroic
workers rested at its base — while startled kings and emperors
gazed and marveled that from the rude touch of this handful
cast on a bleak and unknown shore should have come the em-
bodied genius of human government and the perfected model of
human liberty ! God bless the memory of those immortal workers,
and prosper the fortunes of their living sons — and perpetuate
the inspiration of their handiwork.
Two years ago, sir, I spoke some words in New York that
caught the attention of the North. As I stand here to reiterate,
as I have done everywhere, every word I then uttered — to de-
clare that the sentiments I then avowed were universally ap-
proved in the South — I realize that the confidence begotten by
that speech is largely responsible for my presence here to-night.
I should dishonor myself if I betrayed that confidence by utter-
ing one insincere word, or by withholding one essential element
of the truth. Apropos of this last, let me confess, Mr. President,
before the praise of New England has died on my lips, that I
beUeve the best product of her present life is the procession of
seventeen thousand Vermont Democrats that for twenty-two
years, undiminished by death, unrecruited by birth or conver-
sion, have marched over their rugged hills, cast their Democratic
ballots and gone back home to pray for their unregenerate
neighbors, and awake to read the record of twenty-six thousand
Republican majority. May the God of the helpless and the
heroic help them, and may their sturdy tribe increase.
Far to the South, Mr. President, separated from this section
by a line — once defined in irrepressible difference, once traced
in fratricidal blood, and now, thank God, but a vanishing shadow
— lies the fairest and richest domain of this earth. It is the home
of a brave and hospitable people. There is centered aU that can
please or prosper humankind. A perfect climate above a fertile
soil yields to the husbandman every product of the temperate
zone. There, by night the cotton whitens beneath the stars,
and by day the wheat locks the sunshine in its bearded sheaf.
In the same field the clover steals the fragrance of the wind, and
tobacco catches the quick aroma of the rains. There are moun-
tains stored with exhaustless treasures; forests — ^vast and
primeval; and rivers that, tumbling or loitering, run wanton
to the sea. Of the three essential items of all industries — cotton,
iron and wood — that region has easy control. In cotton, a fixed
monopoly — in iron, proven supremacy — in timber, the reserve
supply of the Republic. From this assured and permanent
APPENDICES 427
advantage, against which artificial conditions cannot much
longer prevail, has grown an amazing system of industries. Not
maintained by human contrivance of tariff or capital, afar off
from the fullest and cheapest source of supply, but resting in
divine assurance, within touch of field and mine and forest — not
set amid costly farms from which competition has driven the
farmer in despair, but amid cheap and sunny lands, rich with
agriculture, to which neither season nor soil has set a limit — this
system of industries is mounting to a splendor that shall dazzle
and illumine the world. That, sir, is the picture and the promise
of my home — a land better and fairer than I have told you, and
yet but fit setting in its material excellence for the loyal and
gentle quality of its citizenship. Against that, sir, we have New
England, recruiting the Republic from its sturdy loins, shaking
from its overcrowded hives new swarms of workers, and touching
this land all over with its energy and its courage. And yet —
while in the Eldorado of which I have told you but fifteen per
cent of its lands are cultivated, its mines scarcely touched, and
its population so scant that, were it set equidistant, the sound
of the human voice could not be heard from Virginia to Texas —
while on the threshold of nearly every house in New England
stands a son, seeking, with troubled eyes, some new land in
which to carry his modest patrimony, the strange fact remains
that in 1880 the South had fewer northern-born citizens than
she had in 1870 — fewer in 70 than in '60. Why is this? Why is
it, sir, though the section line be now but a mist that the breath
may dispel, fewer men of the North have crossed it over to the
South, than when it was crimson with the best blood of the
Republic, or even when the slaveholder stood guard every inch
of its way?
There can be but one answer. It is the very problem we are
now to consider. The key that opens that problem will unlock
to the world the fairest half of this Republic, and free the halted
feet of thousands whose eyes are already kindling with its beauty.
Better than this, it will open the hearts of brothers for thirty
years estranged, and clasp in lasting comradeship a million hands
now withheld in doubt. Nothing, sir, but this problem and the
suspicions it breeds, hinders a clear understanding and a perfect
union. Nothing else stands between us and such love as bound
Georgia and Massachusetts at Valley Forge and Yorktown,
chastened by the sacrifices of Manassas and Gettysburg, and
illumined with the coming of better work and a nobler destiny
than was ever wrought with the sword or sought at the cannon's
mouth.
If this does not invite your patient hearing to-night — ^hear
one thing more. My people, your brothers in the South — brothers
in blood, in destiny, in all that is best in our past and future — are
so beset with this problem that their very existence depends on
428 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
its right solution. Nor are they wholly to blame for its presence.
The slave-ships of the Republic sailed from your ports, the slaves
worked in our fields. You will not defend the traffic, nor I the
institution. But I do here declare that in its wise and humane
administration in lifting the slave to heights of which he had not
dreamed in his savage home, and giving him a happiness he has
not yet found in freedom, our fathers left their sons a saving and
excellent heritage. In the storm of war this institution was lost.
I thank God as heartily as you do that human slavery is gone
forever from American soil. But the freedman remains. With
him, a problem without precedent or parallel. Note its appalling
conditions. Two utterly dissimilar races on the same soil — with
equal political and civil rights — almost equal in numbers, but
terribly unequal in intelligence and responsibility — each pledged
against fusion — one for a century in servitude to the other, and
freed at last by a desolating war, the experiment sought by neither
but approached by both with doubt — these are the conditions.
Under these, adverse at every point, we are required to carry
these two races in peace and honor to the end.
Never, sir, has such a task been given to mortal stewardship.
Never before in this Republic has the white race divided on the
rights of an alien race. The red man was cut down as a weed
because he hindered the way of the American citizen. The yellow
man was shut out of this Republic because he is an alien, and
inferior. The red man was owner of the land — the yellow man
was highly civilized and assimilable — but they hindered both
sections and are gone! But the black man, Meeting but one
section, is clothed with every privilege of government and pinned
to the soil, and my people commanded to make good at any
hazard, and at any cost, his full and equal heirship of American
privilege and prosperity. It matters not that every other race
has been routed or excluded without rhyme or reason. It matters
not that wherever the whites and the blacks have touched, in
any era or in any clime, there has been an irreconcilable violence.
It matters not that no two races, however similar, have lived
anywhere, at any time, on the same soil with equal rights in
peace ! In spite of these things we are commanded to make good
this change of American policy which has not perhaps changed
American prejudice — to make certain here what has elsewhere
been impossible between whites and blacks — and to reverse,
under the very worst conditions, the universal verdict of racial
history. And driven, sir, to this superhuman task with an im-
patience that brooks no delay — a rigor that accepts no excuse —
and a suspicion that discourages frankness and sincerity. We
do not shrink from this trial. It is so interwoven with our in-
dustrial fabric that we cannot disentangle it if we would — so
bound up in our honorable obligation to the world, that we woxild
not if we could. Can we solve it? The God who gave it into
APPENDICES 429
our hands, He alone can know. But this the weakest and wisest
of us do know: we cannot solve it with less than your tolerant
and patient sympathy — with less than the knowledge that the
blood that runs in your veins is our blood — and that, when we
have done our best, whether the issue be lost or won, we shall
feel your strong arms about us and hear the beating of your
approving hearts!
The resolute, clear-headed, broad-minded men of the South
— the men whose genius made glorious every page of the first
seventy years of American history — whose courage and fortitude
you tested in five years of the fiercest war — whose energy has
made bricks without straw and spread splendor amid the ashes
of their war-wasted homes — these men wear this problem in
their hearts and brains, by day and by night. They realize, as
you cannot, what this problem means — what they owe to this
kindly and dependent race — the measure of their debt to the
world in whose despite they defended and maintained slavery.
And though their feet are hindered in its undergrowth, and their
march cumbered with its burdens, they have lost neither the
patience from which comes clearness, nor the faith from which
comes courage. Nor, sir, when in passionate moments is dis-
closed to them that vague and awful shadow, with its lurid
abysses and its crimson stains, into which I pray God they may
never go, are they struck with more of apprehension than is
needed to complete their consecration!
Such is the temper of my people. But what of the problem
itself? Mr. President, we need not go one step further unless
you concede right here that the people I speak for are as honest,
as sensible and as just as your people, seeking as earnestly as
you would in their place to rightly solve the problem that touches
them at every vital point. If you insist that they are ruffians,
blindly striving with bludgeon and shotgun to plunder and
oppress a race, then I shall sacrifice my self-respect and tax your
patience in vain. But admit that they are men of common sense
and common honesty, wisely modifying an environment they
cannot wholly disregard — guiding and controlling as best they
can the vicious and irresponsible of either race — compensating
error with frankness, and retrieving in patience what they lost
in passion — and conscious all the time that wrong means ruin —
admit this, and we may reach an understanding to-night.
The President of the United States, in his late message to
Congress, discussing the plea that the South should be left to
solve this problem, asks: "Are they at work upon it? What
solution do they offer? When will the black man cast a free
ballot? When will he have the civil rights that are his? " I shall
not here protest against a partisanry that, for the first time in our
history, in time of peace, has stamped with the great seal of our
government a stigma upon the people of a great and loyal sec-
43© THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
tion ; though I gratefully remember that the great dead soldier, who
held the helm of State for the eight stormiest years of reconstruc-
tion, never found need for such a step; and though there is no
personal sacrifice I would not make to remove this cruel and
unjust imputation on my people from the archives of my country!
But, sir, backed by a record, on every page of which is progress,
I venture to make earnest and respectful answer to the questions
that are asked. We give to the world this year a crop of 7,500,000
bales of cotton, worth $450,000,000, and its cash equivalent in
grain, grasses and fruit. This enormous crop could not have
come from the hands of sullen and discontented labor. It comes
from peaceful fields, in which laughter and gossip rise above the
hum of industry, and contentment runs with the singing plough.
It is claimed that this ignorant labor is defrauded of its just hire.
I present the tax books of Georgia, which show that the negro,
twenty-five years ago a slave, has in Georgia alone $10,000,000
of assessed property, worth twice that much. Does not that
record honor him and vindicate his neighbors?
What people, penniless, illiterate, has done so well? For every
Afro-American agitator, stirring the strife in which alone he
prospers, I can show you a thousand negroes, happy in their
cabin homes, tilling their own land by day, and at night taking
from the lips of their children the helpful message their State
sends them from the schoolhouse door. And the schoolhouse
itself bears testimony. In Georgia we added last year $250,000
to the school fund, making a total of more than $1,000,000 —
and this in the face of prejudice not yet conquered — of the
fact that the whites are assessed for $368,000,000, the blacks
for $10,000,000, and yet forty-nine per cent of the beneficiaries
are black children; and in the doubt of many wise men if educa-
tion helps, or can help, our problem. Charleston, with her
taxable values cut half in two since 1860, pays more in propor-
tion for public schools than Boston. Although it is easier to
give much out of much than little out of little, the South, with
one-seventh of the taxable property of the country, with rela-
tively larger debt, having received only one-twelfth as much of
public lands, and having back of its tax books none of the
$600,000,000 of bonds that enrich the North— and though it
pays annually $26,000,000 to your section as pensions — yet
gives nearly one-sixth to the public school fund. The South
since 1865 has spent $122,000,000 in education, and this year is
pledged to $32,000,000 more for State and city schools, although
the blacks, paying one-thirtieth of the taxes, get nearly one-half
of the fund. Go into our fields and see whites and blacks working
side by side. On our buildings in the same squad. In our shops
at the same forge. Often the blacks crowd the whites from work,
or lower wages by their greater need and simpler habits, and yet
are permitted, because we want to bar them from no avenue
APPENDICES 431
in which their feet are fitted to tread. They could not there be
elected orators of white universities, as they have been here, but
they do enter there a hundred useful trades that are closed
against them here. We hold it better and wiser to tend the weeds
in the garden than to water the exotic in the window.
In the South there are negro lawyers, teachers, editors, den-
tists, doctors, preachers, multiplying with the increasing ability
of their race to support them. In villages and towns they have
their military companies equipped from the armories of the
State, their churches and societies built and supported largely
by their neighbors. What is the testimony of the courts? In
penal legislation we have steadily reduced felonies to mis-
demeanors, and have led the world in mitigating punishment for
crime, that we might save, as far as possible, this dependent
race from its own weakness. In our penitentiary record sixty
per cent of the prosecutors are negroes, and in every court the
negro criminal strikes the colored juror, that white men may
judge his case.
In the North, one negro in every 185 is in jail — in the South,
only one in 446. In the North the percentage of negro prisoners
is six times as great as that of native whites; in the South, only
four times as great. If prejudice wrongs him in Southern courts,
the record shows it to be deeper in Northern courts. I assert
here, and a bar as intelligent and upright as the bar of Massa-
chusetts will solemnly indorse my assertion, that in the Southern
courts, from highest to lowest, pleading for life, liberty or prop-
erty, the negro has distinct advantage because he is a negro, apt
to be overreached, oppressed — and that this advantage reaches
from the juror in making his verdict to the judge in measuring
his sentence.
Now, Mr. President, can it be seriously maintained that we
are terrorizing the people from whose willing hands comes every
year $1,000,000,000 of farm crops? Or have robbed a people
who, twenty-five years from unrewarded slavery, have amassed
in one State $20,000,000 of property? Or that we intend to
oppress the people we are arming every day? Or deceive them,
when we are educating them to the utmost limit of our ability?
Or outlaw them, when we work side by side with them? Or re-
enslave them under legal forms, when for their benefit we have
even imprudently narrowed the limit of felonies and mitigated
the severity of law? My fellow-countrymen, as you yourselves
may sometimes have to appeal at the bar of human judgment
for justice and for right, give to my people to-night the fair and
imanswerable conclusion of these incontestable facts.
But it is claimed that under this fair seeming there is disorder
and violence. This I admit. And there will be until there is
one ideal community on earth after which we may pattern.
But how widely is it misjudged! It is hard to measure with
432 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
exactness whatever touches the negro. His helplessness, his
isolation, his century of servitude, — these dispose us to emphasize
and magnify his wrongs. This disposition, inflamed by prejudice
and partisanry, has led to injustice and delusion. Lawless men
may ravage a county in Iowa and it is accepted as an incident —
in the South, a drunken row is declared to be the fixed habit of
the community. Regulators may whip vagabonds in Indiana
by platoons and it scarcely arrests attention — a chance collision
in the South among relatively the same classes is gravely accepted
as evidence that one race is destroying the other. We might as
well claim that the Union was ungrateful to the colored soldier
who followed its flag because a Grand Army post in Connecticut
closed its doors to a negro veteran as for you to give racial
significance to every incident in the South, or to accept excep-
tional grounds as the rule of our society. I am not one of those
who becloud American honor with the parade of the outrages of
either section, and belie American character by declaring them
to be significant and representative. I prefer to maintain that
they are neither, and stand for nothing but the passion and sin
of our poor fallen humanity. If society, like a machine, were
no stronger than its weakest part, I should despair of both sec-
tions. But, knowing that society, sentient and responsible in
every fiber, can mend and repair until the whole has the strength
of the best, I despair of neither. These gentlemen who come
with me here, knit into Georgia's busy life as they are, never
saw, I dare assert, an outrage committed on a negro! And if
they did, no one of you would be swifter to prevent or punish.
It is through them, and the men and women who think with
them — making nine-tenths of every Southern community — that
these two races have been carried thus far with less of violence
than would have been possible anywhere else on earth. And in
their fairness and courage and steadfastness — more than in all
the laws that can be passed, or all the bayonets that can be mus-
tered— is the hope of our future.
When will the blacks cast a free ballot? When ignorance
anywhere is not dominated by the will of the intelligent; when
the laborer anywhere casts a vote unhindered by his boss ; when
the vote of the poor anywhere is not influenced by the power of
the rich; when the strong and the steadfast do not everywhere
control the suffrage of the weak and shiftless — then, and not
till then, will the ballot of the negro be free. The white people
of the South are banded, Mr. President, not in prejudice against
the blacks — not in sectional estrangement — not in the hope of
political dominion — but in a deep and abiding necessity. Here
is this vast ignorant and purchasable vote — clannish, credulous,
impulsive, and passionate — tempting every art of the demagogue,
but insensible to the appeal of the stateman. Wrongly started,
in that it was led into alienation from its neighbor and taught to
APPENDICES 433
rely on the protection of an outside force, it cannot be merged
and lost in the two great parties through logical currents, for
it lacks political conviction and even that information on which
conviction must be based. It must remain a faction — strong
enough in every community to control on the slightest division
of the whites. Under that division it becomes the prey of the
cunning and unscrupulous of both parties. Its credulity is
imposed upon, its patience inflamed, its cupidity tempted, its
impulses misdirected — ^and even its superstition made to play
its part in a campaign in which every interest of society is jeop-
ardized and every approach to the ballot-box debauched. It
is against such campaigns as this — the folly and the bitterness
and the danger of which every Southern community has drunk
deeply — that the white people of the South are banded together.
Just as you in Massachusetts would be banded if 300,000 men,
not one in a hundred able to read his ballot — banded in race
instinct, holding against you the memory of a century of slavery,
taught by your late conquerors to distrust and oppose you, had
already travestied legislation from your State House, and in
every species of folly or villainy had wasted your substance and
exhausted your credit.
But admitting the right of the whites to unite against this
tremendous menace, we are challenged with the smallness of
our vote. This has long been flippantly charged to be evidence
and has now been solemnly and officially declared to be proof
of political turpitude and baseness on our part. Let us see.
Virginia — a state now under fierce assault for this alleged crime
— cast in 1888 seventy-five per cent of her vote; Massachusetts,
the State in which I speak, sixty per cent of her vote. Was it
suppression in Virginia and natural causes in Massachusetts?
Last month Virginia cast sixty-nine per cent of her vote; and
Massachusetts, fighting in every district, cast only forty-nine
per cent of hers. If Virginia is condemned because thirty-one
per cent of her vote was silent, how shall this State escape, in
which fifty-one per cent was dumb? Let us enlarge this compari-
son. The sixteen Southern States in '88 cast sixty-seven per
cent of their total vote — the six New England States but sixty-
three per cent of theirs. By what fair rule shall the stigma be
put upon one section while the other escapes? A congressional
election in New York last week, with the polling place in touch
of every voter, brought out only 6,000 votes of 28,000 — and the
lack of opposition is assigned as the natural cause. In a district
in my State, in which an opposition speech has not been heard
in ten years and the polling places are miles apart — under the
unfair reasoning of which my section has been a constant victim
— the small vote is charged to be proof of forcible suppression.
In Virginia an average majority of 12,000, unless hopeless divi-
sion of the minority, was raised to 42,000; in Iowa, in the same
434 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
election, a majority of 32,000 was wiped out and an opposition
majority of 8,000 was established. The change of 40,000 votes
in Iowa is accepted as political revolution — in Virginia an increase
of 30,000 on a safe majority is declared to be proof of political
fraud.
It is deplorable, sir, that in both sections a larger percentage
of the vote is not regularly cast, but more inexplicable that
this should be so in New England than in the South. What
invites the negro to the ballot-box? He knows that of all men
it has promised him most and yielded him least. His first appeal
to suffrage was the promise of "forty acres and a mule;" his
second, the threat that Democratic success meant his reenslave-
ment. Both have been proved false in his experience. He looked
for a home, and he got the Freedman's Bank. He fought under
promise of the loaf, and in victory was denied the crumbs. Dis-
couraged and deceived, he has realized at last that his best
friends are his neighbors with whom his lot is cast, and whose
prosperity is bound up in his — and that he has gained nothing
in politics to compensate the loss of their confidence and sym-
pathy, that is at last his best and enduring hope. And so, with-
out leaders or organization — and lacking the resolute heroism of
my party friends in Vermont that make their hopeless march
over the hills a high and inspiring pilgrimage — he shrewdly
measures the occasional agitator, balances his little account with
politics, touches up his mule, and jogs down the furrow, letting
the mad world wag as it will!
The negro voter can never control in the South, and it would
be well if partisans at the North would understand this. I have
seen the white people of a State set about by black hosts until
their fate seemed sealed. But, sir, some brave men, banding
them together, would rise as Elisha rose in beleaguered Samaria,
and, touching their eyes with faith, bid them look abroad to see
the very air "filled with the chariots of Israel and the horsemen
thereof." If there is any human force that cannot be withstood,
it is the power of the banded intelligence and responsibility of a
free community. Against it, numbers and corruption cannot
prevail. It cannot be forbidden in the law, or divorced in force.
It is the inalienable right of every free community — the just and
righteous safeguard against an ignorant or corrupt suffrage. It
is on this, sir, that we rely in the South. Not the cowardly-
menace of mask or shotgun, but the peaceful majesty of intelli-
gence and responsibility, massed and unified for the protection
of its homes and the preservation of its liberty. That, sir, is
our reliance and our hope, and against it all the powers of earth
shall not prevail. It is just as certain that Virginia would come
back to the unchallenged control of her white race — that before
the moral and material power of her people once more unified,
opposition would crumble until its last desperate leader was left
APPENDICES 435
alone, vainly striving to rally his disordered hosts — as that night
should fade in the kindling glory of the sun. You may pass
force bills, but they will not avail. You may surrender your
own liberties to federal election law; you may submit, in fear
of a necessity that does not exist, that the very form of this
government may be changed; you may invite federal inter-
ference with the New England town meeting, that has been for
a hundred years the guarantee of local government in America;
this old State — which holds in its charter the boast that it "is
a free and independent commonwealth" — may deliver its
election machinery into the hands of the government it helped
to create — but never, sir, will a single State of this Union, North
or South, be delivered again to the control of an ignorant and
inferior race. We wrested our state governments from negro
supremacy when the Federal drumbeat rolled closer to the ballot-
box, and Federal bayonets hedged it deeper about than will ever
again be permitted in this free government. But, sir, though the
cannon of this Republic thundered in every voting district in
the South, we still should find in the mercy of God the means
and the courage to prevent its reestablishment.
I regret, sir, that my section, hindered with this problem,
stands in seeming estrangement to the North. If, sir, any man
will point out to me a path down which the white people of the
South, divided, may walk in peace and honor, I will take that
path, though I take it alone — for at its end, and nowhere else,
I fear, is to be found the full prosperity of my section and the
full restoration of this Union. But, sir, if the negro had not been
enfranchised the South would have been divided and the Republic
united. His enfranchisement — against which I enter no protest
— holds the South united and compact. What solution, then,
can we offer for the problem? Time alone can disclose it to us.
We simply report progress, and ask your patience. If the problem
be solved at all — and I firmly believe it will, though nowhere else
has it been — it will be solved by the people most deeply bound
in interest, most deeply pledged in honor to its solution. I had
rather see my people render back this question rightly solved
than to see them gather all the spoils over which faction has con-
tended since Cataline conspired and Caesar fought. Meantime
we treat the negro fairly, measuring to him justice in the fulness
the strong should give to the weak, and leading him in the stead-
fast ways of citizenship, that he may no longer be the prey of the
unscruptdous and the sport of the thoughtless. We open to
him every pursuit in which he can prosper, and seek to broaden
his training and capacity. We seek to hold his confidence and
friendship — and to pin him to the soil with ownership, that he
may catch in the fire of his own hearthstone that sense of responsi-
bility the shiftless can never know. And we gather him into that
alliance of intelligence and responsibility that, though it now
436 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
runs close to racial lines, welcomes the responsible and intelligent
of any race. By this course, confirmed in our judgment, and
justified in the progress already made, we hope to progress slowly
but surely to the end.
The love we feel for that race, you cannot measure nor com-
prehend. As I attest it here, the spirit of my old black mammy,
from her home up there, looks down to bless, and through the
tumult of this night steals the sweet music of her croonings as
thirty years ago she held me in her black arms and led me smiling
to sleep. This scene vanishes as I speak, and I catch a vision
of an old Southern home with its lofty pillars and its white
pigeons fluttering down through the golden air. I see women
with strained and anxious faces, and children alert yet helpless.
I see night come down with its dangers and its apprehensions,
and in a big homely room I feel on my tired head the touch of
loving hands — now worn and wrinkled, but fairer to me yet than
the hands of mortal woman, and stronger yet to lead me than
the hands of mortal man — as they lay a mother's blessing there,
while at her knees — the truest altar I yet have found — I thank
God that she is safe in her sanctuary, because her slaves, sentinel
in the silent cabin, or guard at her chamber door, put a black
man's loyalty between her and danger.
I catch another vision. The crisis of battle — a soldier, struck,
staggering, fallen. I see a slave, scuffing through the smoke,
winding his black arms about the fallen form, reckless of hurtling
death — bending his trusty face to catch the words that tremble
on the stricken lips, so wrestling meantime with agony that he
would lay down his life in his master's stead. I see him by the
weary bedside, ministering with uncomplaining patience, pray-
ing with all his humble heart that God will lift his master up,
until death comes in mercy and in honor to still the soldier's
agony and seal the soldier's life. I see him by the open grave —
mute, motionless, uncovered, suffering for the death of him who
in life fought against his freedom. I see him, when the mold
is heaped and the great drama of his life is closed, turn away and
with downcast eyes and uncertain step start out into new and
strange fields, faltering, struggling, but moving on, until his
shambling figure is lost in the light of this better and brighter
day. And from the grave comes a voice, sa5ring, "Follow him!
put your arms about him in his need, even as he put his about
me. Be his friend as he was mine." And out into this new
world — strange to me as to him, dazzling, bewildering both — I
follow! And may God forget my people — when they forget
these !
Whatever the future may hold for them, whether they plod
along in the servitude from which they have never been lifted
since the Cyrenian was laid hold upon by the Roman soldiers,
and made to bear the cross of the fainting Christ — whether they
APPENDICES 437
find homes again in Africa, and thus hasten the prophecy of the
psalmist, who said, "And suddenly Ethiopia shall hold out her
hands unto God" — whether forever dislocated and separate,
they remain a weak people, beset by stronger, and exist, as the
Turk, who lives in the jealousy rather than in the conscience of
Europe — or whether in this miraculous Republic they break
through the caste of twenty centuries and, belying universal
history, reach the full stature of citizenship, and in peace main-
tain it — we shall give them uttermost justice and abiding friend-
ship. And whatever we do, into whatever seeming estrangement
we may be driven, nothing shall disturb the love we bear this
Republic, or mitigate our consecration to its service. I stand
here, Mr. President, to profess no new loyalty. When General
Lee, whose heart was the temple of our hopes, and whose arm
was clothed with our strength, renewed his allegiance to this
Government at Appomattox, he spoke from a heart too great
to be false, and he spoke for every honest man from Maryland
to Texas. From that day to this Hamilcar has nowhere in the
South sworn young Hannibal to hatred and vengeance, but
everywhere to loyalty and to love. Witness the veteran standing
at the base of a Confederate monument, above the graves of his
comrades, his empty sleeve tossing in the April wind, adjuring
the young men about him to serve as earnest and loyal citizens
the Government against which their fathers fought. This mes-
sage, delivered from that sacred presence, has gone home to the
hearts of my fellows! And, sir, I declare here, if physical courage
be always equal to human aspiration, that they would die, sir,
if need be, to restore this Republic their fathers fought to dissolve.
Such, Mr. President, is this problem as we see it, such is the
temper in which we approach it, such the progress made. What
do we ask of you? First, patience; out of this alone can come
perfect work. Second, confidence; in this alone can you judge
fairly. Third, sympathy; in this you can help us best. Fourth,
give us your sons as hostages. When you plant your capital in
millions, send your sons that they may know how true are our
hearts and may help to swell the Caucasian current until it can
carry without danger this black infusion. Fifth, loyalty to the
Republic — for there is sectionalism in loyalty as in estrangement.
This hour little needs the loyalty that is loyal to one section and
yet holds the other in enduring suspicion and estrangement.
Give us the broad and perfect loyalty that loves and trusts
Georgia alike with Massachusetts — that knows no South, no
North, no East, no West, but endears with equal and patriotic
love every foot of our soil, every State of our Union.
A mighty duty, sir, and a mighty inspiration impels every one
of us to-night to lose in patriotic consecration whatever estranges,
whatever divides. We, sir, are Americans — and we stand for
human liberty! The uplifting force of the American idea is under
438 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
every throne on earth. France, Brazil — these are our victories.
To redeem the earth from kingcraft and oppression — this is our
mission! And we shall not fail. God has sown in our soil the
seed of His millennial harvest, and He wUl not lay the sickle to
the ripening crop until His full and perfect day has come. Our
history, sir, has been a constant and expanding miracle, from
Plymouth Rock and Jamestown, all the way — aye, even from
the hour when from the voiceless and traceless ocean a new world
rose to the sight of the inspired sailor. As we approach the fourth
centennial of that stupendous day — when the old world will come
to marvel and to learn amid our gathered treasures — let us
resolve to crown the miracles of our past with the spectacle of a
Republic, compact, united, indissoluble in the bonds of love —
loving from the Lakes to the Gulf — the wounds of war healed in
every heart as on every hill, serene and resplendent at the summit
of human achievement and earthly glory, blazing out the path
and making clear the way up which all the nations of the earth
must come in God's appointed time!
WILLIAM McKINLEY
LAST SPEECH
Delivered at the World's Fair, Buffalo, N. Y., on Sep-
tember 5, 1901, the day before he was assassinated.
I am glad again to be in the city of Buffalo and exchange
greetings with her people, to whose generous hospitality I am
not a stranger, and with whose good will I have been repeatedly
and signally honored. To-day I have additional satisfaction in
meeting and giving welcome to the foreign representatives
assembled here, whose presence and participation in this Exposi-
tion have contributed in so marked a degree to its interest and
success. To the commissioners of the Dominion of Canada and
the British Colonies, the French Colonies, the Republics of
Mexico and of Central and South America, and the commission-
ers of Cuba and Porto Rico, who share with us in this undertaking,
we give the hand of fellowship and felicitate with them upon
the triumphs of art, science, education and manufacture which
the old has bequeathed to the new century.
Expositions are the timekeepers of progress. They record the
world's advancement. They stimulate the energy, enterprise
and intellect of the people, and quicken human genius. They go
into the home. They broaden and brighten the daily life of the
people. They open mighty storehouses of information to the
student. Every exposition, great or small, has helped to some
onward step.
Comparison of ideas is always educational and, as such, in-
structs the brain and hand of man. Friendly rivalry follows.
APPENDICES 439
which is the spur to industrial improvement, the inspiration to
useful invention and to high endeavor in all departments of
human activity. It exacts a study of the wants, comforts, and
even the whims of the people, and recognizes the efficacy of high
quality and low prices to win their favor. The quest for trade is
an incentive to men of business to devise, invent, improve and
economize in the cost of production. Business life, whether
among ourselves, or with other peoples, is ever a sharp struggle
for success. It will be none the less in the future.
Without competition we would be clinging to the clumsy and
antiquated process of farming and manufacture and the methods
oi business of long ago, and the twentieth would be no further
advanced than the eighteenth century. But tho commercial
competitors we are, commercial enemies we must not be. The
Pan-American Exposition has done its work thoroughly, pre-
senting in its exhibits evidences of the highest skill and illus-
trating the progress of the human family in the Western Hemi-
sphere. This portion of the earth has no cause for humiliation
for the part it has performed in the march of civilization. It has
not accomplished everything; far from it. It has simply done
its best, and without vanity or boastfulness, and recognizing the
manifold achievements of others it invites the friendly rivalry
of all the powers in the peaceful pursuits of trade and commerce,
and will cooperate with all in advancing the highest and best
interests of humanity. The wisdom and energy of all the nations
are none too great for the world work. The success of art, science,
industry and invention is an international asset and a common
glory.
After all, how near one to the other is every part of the world.
Modem inventions have brought into close relation widely
separated peoples and make them better acquainted. Geo-
graphic and political divisions will continue to exist, but dis-
tances have been effaced. Swift ships and fast trains are becom-
ing cosmopolitan. They invade fields which a few years ago
were impenetrable. The world's products are exchanged as
never before and with increasing transportation facilities come
increasing knowledge and larger trade. Prices are fixed with
mathematical precision by supply and demand. The world's
selling prices are regulated by market and crop reports. We
travel greater distances in a shorter space of time and with more
ease than was ever dreamed of by the fathers. Isolation is no
longer possible or desirable. The same important news is read,
tho in different languages, the same day in all Christendom.
The telegraph keeps us advised of what is occurring every-
where, and the Press foreshadows, with more or less accuracy,
the plans and purposes of the nations. Market prices of products
and of securities are hourly known in every commercial mart,
and the investments of the people extend beyond their own
440 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
national boundaries into the remotest parts of the earth. Vast
transactions are conducted and international exchanges are made
by the tick of the cable. Every event of interest is immediately
bulletined. The quick gathering and transmission of news, like
rapid transit, are of recent origin, and are only made possible
by the genius of the inventor and the courage of the investor.
It took a special messenger of the government, with every facility
known at the time for rapid travel, nineteen days to go from the
City of Washington to New Orleans with a message to General
Jackson that the war with England had ceased and a treaty of
peace had been signed. How dfierent now ! We reached General
Miles, in Porto Rico, and he was able through the military tele-
graph to stop his army on the firing line with the message that
the United States and Spain had signed a protocol suspending
hostilities. We knew almost instanter of the first shots fired at
Santiago, and the subsequent surrender of the Spanish forces
was known at Washington within less than an hour of its con-
summation. The first ship of Cervera's fleet had hardly emerged
from that historic harbor when the fact was flashed to our Capitol,
and the swift destruction that followed was announced immedi-
ately through the wonderful mediimi of telegraphy.
So accustomed are we to safe and easy commimication with
distant lands that its temporary interruption, even in ordinary
times, results in loss and inconvenience. We shall never forget
the days of anxious waiting and suspense when no information
was permitted to be sent from Pekin, and the diplomatic repre-
sentatives of the nations in China, cut off from all communica-
tion, inside and outside of the walled capital, were surrounded
by an angry and misguided mob that threatened their lives;
nor the joy that thrilled the world when a single message from
the government of the United States brought through our
minister the first news of the safety of the besieged diplomats.
At the beginning of the nineteenth century there was not a
mile of steam railroad on the globe; now there are enough miles
to make its circuit many times. Then there was not a line of
electric telegraph; now we have a vast mileage traversing all
lands and seas. God and man have linked the nations together.
No nation can longer be indifferent to any other. And as we
are brought more and more in touch with each other, the less
occasion is there for misunderstandings, and the stronger the
disposition, when we have differences, to adjust them in the
court of arbitration, which is the noblest forum for the settlement
of international disputes.
My fellow citizens, trade statistics indicate that this country
is in a state of unexampled prosperity. The figures are almost
appalling. They show that we are utilizing our fields and forests
and mines, and that we are furnishing profitable employment to
the millions of workingmen throughout the United States, bring-
APPENDICES 441
ing comfort and happiness to their homes, and making it possible
to lay by savings for old age and disability. That all the people are
participating in this great prosperity is seen in every American
commimity and shown by the enormous and unprecedented
deposits in our savings banks. Our duty in the care and security
of these deposits and their safe investment demands the highest
integrity and the best business capacity of those in charge of
these depositories of the people's earnings.
We have a vast and intricate business, built up through years
of toil and struggle in which every part of the country has its
stake, which wiU not permit of either neglect or of undue sel-
fishness. No narrow, sordid policy will subserve it. The great-
est skill and wisdom on the part of manufacturers and producers
will be required to hold and increase it. Our industrial enter-
prises, which have grown to such great proportions, affect the
homes and occupations of the people and the welfare of the
country. Our capacity to produce has developed so enormously
and our products have so multiplied that the problem of more
markets requires our urgent and immediate attention. Only a
broad and enlightened policy will keep what we have. No other
policy will get more. In these times of marvelous business energy
and gain we ought to be looking to the future, strengthening the
weak places in our industrial and commercial systems, that we
may be ready for any storm or strain.
By sensible trade arrangements which will not interrupt our
home production we shall extend the outlets for our increasing
surplus. A system which provides a mutual exchange of com-
modities is manifestly essential to the continued and healthful
growth of our export trade. We must not repose in the fancied
security that we can forever sell everything and buy little or
nothing. If such a thing were possible it would not be best for
us or for those with whom we deal. We should take from our
customers such of their products as we can use without harm
to our industries and labor. Reciprocity is the natural outgrowth
of our wonderful industrial development under the domestic
policy now firmly established.
What we produce beyond our domestic consumption must
have a vent abroad. The excess must be relieved through a
foreign outlet, and we should sell everywhere we can and buy
wherever the buying will enlarge our sales and productions,
and thereby make a greater demand for home labor.
The period of exclusiveness is past. The expansion of our trade
and commerce is the pressing problem. Commercial wars are
improfitable. A policy of good will and friendly trade relations
wiU prevent reprisals. Reciprocity treaties are in harmony with
the spirit of the times; measures of retaliation are not. If, per-
chance, some of our tariffs are no longer needed for revenue or
to encourage and protect our industries at home, why should
442 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
they not be employed to extend and promote our markets abroad?
Then, too, we have inadequate steamship service. New lines of
steamships have already been put in commission between the
Pacific coast ports of the United States and those on the western
coasts of Mexico and Central and South America. These should
be followed up with direct steamship lines between the western
coast of the United States and South American ports. One of the
needs of the times is direct commercial lines from our vast fields
of production to the fields of consumption that we have but
barely touched. Next in advantage to having the thing to sell
is to have the conveyance to carry it to the buyer. We must
encourage our merchant marine. We must have more ships.
They must be under the American flag; built and manned and
owned by Americans. These will not only be profitable in a
commercial sense; they will be messengers of peace and amity
wherever they go.
We must build the Isthmian canal, which will unite the two
oceans and give a straight line of water communication with the
western coasts of Central and South America and Mexico. The
construction of a Pacific cable can not be longer postponed. In
the furtherance of these objects of national interest and concern
you are performing an important part. This Exposition would
have touched the heart of that American statesman whose mind
was ever alert and thought ever constant for a larger commerce
and a truer fraternity of the republics of the New World. His
broad American spirit is felt and manifested here. He needs no
identification to an assemblage of Americans anywhere, for the
name of Blaine is inseparably associated with the Pan-American
movement which finds here practical and substantial expression,
and which we all hope will be firmly advanced by the Pan-
American Congress that assembles this autumn in the capital
of Mexico. The good work will go on. It can not be stopped.
Those buildings will disappear; this creation of art and beauty
and industry will perish from sight, but their influence will remain
to "make it live beyond its too short living with praises and
thanksgiving." Who can tell the new thoughts that have been
awakened, the ambitions fired and the high achievements that
will be wrought through this Exposition?
Gentlemen, let us ever remember that our interest is in con-
cord, not coriflict; and that our real eminence rests in the vic-
tories of peace, not those of war. We hope that all who are repre-
sented here may be moved to higher and nobler efforts for their
own and the world's good, and that out of this city may come not
only greater commerce and trade for us all, but, more essential than
these, relations of mutual respect, confidence and friendship which
will deepen and endure. Our earnest prayer is that God will gra-
ciously vouchsafe prosperity, happiness and peace to all our neigh-
bors, and like blessings to all the peoples and powers of earth.
APPENDICES 443
JOHN HAY
TRIBUTE TO MCKINLEY
From his memorial address at a joint session of the Senate
and House of Representatives on February 27, 1903.
For the third time the Congress of the United States are
assembled to commemorate the life and the death of a president
slain by the hand of an assassin. The attention of the future
historian will be attracted to the features which reappear with
startling sameness in all three of these awful crimes: the useless-
ness, the utter lack of consequence of the act; the obscurity,
the insignificance of the criminal; the blamelessness — so far as
in our sphere of existence the best of men may be held blameless
— of the victim. Not one of our murdered presidents had an
enemy in the world; they were all of such preeminent purity of
life that no pretext could be given for the attack of passional
crime; they were all men of democratic instincts, who could
never have offended the most jealous advocates of equity; they
were of kindly and generous nature, to whom wrong or injustice
was impossible; of moderate fortune, whose slender means
nobody could envy. They were men of austere virtue, of tender
heart, of eminent abilities, which they had devoted with single
minds to the good of the Republic. If ever men walked before
God and man without blame, it was these three rulers of our
people. The only temptation to attack their lives offered was
their gentle radiance — to eyes hating the light, that was offense
enough.
The stupid uselessness of such an infamy affronts the common
sense of the world. One can conceive how the death of a dictator
may change the political conditions of an empire; how the
extinction of a narrowing line of kings may bring in an alien
dynasty. But in a well-ordered Republic like ours the ruler may
fall, but the State feels no tremor. Our beloved and revered
leader is gone — but the natural process of our laws provides us a
successor, identical in purpose and ideals, nourished by the same
teachings, inspired by the same principles, pledged by tender
affection as well as by high loyalty to carry to completion the
immense task committed to his hands, and to smite with iron
severity every manifestation of that hideous crime which his
mild predecessor, with his dying breath, forgave. The sayings of
celestial wisdom have no date; the words that reach us, over
two thousand years, out of the darkest hour of gloom the world
has ever known, are true to life to-day: "They know not what
they do." The blow struck at our dear friend and ruler was as
deadly as blind hate could make it; but the blow struck at
anarchy was deadlier still.
How many countries can join with us in the community of a
444 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
kindred sorrow! I will not speak of those distant regions where
assassination enters into the daily life of government. But
among the nations bound to us by the ties of familiar intercourse
— who can forget that wise and mild autocrat who had earned
the proud title of the liberator? that enlightened and magnani-
mous citizen whom France still mourns? that brave and chival-
rous king of Italy who only lived for his people? and, saddest of
all, that lovely and sorrowing empress, whose harmless life could
hardly have excited the animosity of a demon? Against that
devilish spirit nothing avails, — neither virtue nor patriotism,
nor age nor youth, nor conscience nor pity. We can not even
say that education is a sufficient safeguard against this baleful
evil, — for most of the wretches whose crimes have so shocked
humanity in recent years were men not unlettered, who have
gone from the common schools, through murder to the scaffold.
The life of William McKinley was, from his birth to his death,
typically American. There is no environment, I should say,
anywhere else in the world which could produce just such a
character. He was bom into that way of life which elsewhere is
called the middle class, but which in this country is so nearly
universal as to make of other classes an almost negligible quantity.
He was neither rich nor poor, neither proud nor humble; he
knew no hunger he was not sure of satisfying, no luxury which
could enervate mind or body. His parents were sober, God-
fearing people; intelligent and upright, without pretension and
without humility. He grew up in the company of boys like him-
self, wholesome, honest, self-respecting. They looked down on
nobody; they never felt it possible they could be looked down
upon. Their houses were the homes of probity, piety, patriot-
ism. They learned in the admirable school readers of fifty years
ago the lessons of heroic and splendid life which have come down
from the past. They read in their weekly newspapers the story
of the world's progress, in which they were eager to take part,
and of the sins and wrongs of civilization with which they burned
to do battle. It was a serious and thoughtful time. The boys
of that day felt dimly, but deeply, that days of sharp struggle
and high achievement were before them. They looked at life
with the wondering yet resolute eyes of a young esquire in his
vigil of arms. They felt a time was coming when to them should
be addressed the stem admonition of the Apostle, "Quit you like
men; be strong."
The men who are living to-day and were young in 1860 will
never forget the glory and glamour that filled the earth and the
sky when the long twilight of doubt and uncertainty was ending
and the time for action had come. A speech by Abraham Lincoln
was an event not only of high moral sigriificance, but of far-
reaching importance; the drilling of a militia company by Ells-
worth attracted national attention; the fluttering of the flag
APPENDICES 445
in the clear sky drew tears from the eyes of young men. Patriot-
ism, which had been a rhetorical expression, became a passionate
emotion, in which instinct, logic and feeling were fused. The
country was worth saving; it could be saved only by fire; no
sacrifice was too great; the young men of the country were ready
for the sacrifice; come weal, come woe, they were ready.
At seventeen years of age William McKinley heard this sum-
mons of his country. He was the sort of youth to whom a
military life in ordinary times would possess no attractions. His
nature was far different from that of the ordinary soldier. He
had other dreams of life, its prizes and pleasures, than that of
marches and battles. But to his mind there was no choice or
question. The banner floating in the morning breeze was the
beckoning gesture of his country. The thrilling notes of the
trumpet called him — him and none other — into the ranks. His
portrait in his first uniform is familiar to you all — the short,
stocky figure; the quiet, thoughtful face; the deep, dark eyes.
It is the face of a lad who could not stay at home when he thought
he was needed in the field. He was of the stuff of which good
soldiers are made. Had he been ten years older he would have
entered at the head of a company and come out at the head of a
division. But he did what he could. He enlisted as a private;
he learned to obey. His serious, sensible ways, his prompt, alert
efficiency soon attracted the attention of his superiors. He was
so faithful in little things that they gave him more and more to
do. He was untiring in camp and on the march; swift, cool and
fearless in fight. He left the army with field rank when the war
ended, brevetted by President Lincoln for gallantry in battle.
In coming years when men seek to draw the moral of our great
Civil War, nothing will seem to them so admirable in all the
history of our two magnificent armies as the way in which the
war came to a close. When the Confederate army saw the time
had come, they acknowledged the pitiless logic of facts and ceased
fighting. When the army of the Union saw it was no longer
needed, without a murmur or question, making no terms, asking
no return, in the flush of victory and fulness of might, it laid
down its arms and melted back into the mass of peaceful citizens.
There is no event since the nation was bom which has so proved
its solid capacity for self-government. Both sections share
equally in that crown of glory. They had held a debate of in-
comparable importance and had fought it out with equal energy.
A conclusion had been reached — and it is to the everlasting honor
of both sides that they each knew when the war was over and the
hour of a lasting peace had struck. We may admire the desperate
daring of others who prefer annihilation to compromise, but the
palm of common sense, and, I will say, of enlightened patriotism,
belongs to the men like Grant and Lee, who Imew when they had
fought enough for honor and for country.
446 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
So it came naturally about that in 1876 — the beginning of the
second century of the Republic — he began, by an election to
Congress, his political career. Thereafter for fourteen years this
chamber was his home. I use the word advisedly. Nowhere in
the world was he so in harmony with his environment as here;
nowhere else did his mind work with such full consciousness of
its powers. The air of debate was native to him; here he drank
delight of battle with his peers. In after days, when he drove
by this stately pile, or when on rare occasions his duty called
him here, he greeted his old haunts with the affectionate zest of
a child of the house; during all the last ten years of his life, filled
as they were with activity and glory, he never ceased to be home-
sick for this hall. When he came to the presidency, there was
not a day when his congressional service was not of use to him.
Probably no other president has been in such full and cordial
communion with Congress, if we may except Lincoln alone.
McKinley knew the legislative body thoroughly, its composi-
tion, its methods, its habit of thought. He had the profoundest
respect for its authority and an inflexible belief in the ultimate
rectitude of its purposes. Our history shows how surely an execu-
tive courts disaster and ruin by assuming an attitude of hostility
or distrust to the Legislature; and, on the other hand, Mc-
Kinley's frank and sincere trust and confidence in Congress were
repaid by prompt and loyal support and co6peration. During
his entire term of office this mutual trust and regard — so essen-
tial to the public welfare — was never shadowed by a single cloud.
When he came to the presidency he confronted a situation of
the utmost difficulty, which might well have appalled a man of
less serene and tranquil self-corSdence. There had been a state
of profound commercial and industrial depression from which
his friends had said his election would relieve the coimtry. Our
relations with the outside world left much to be desired. The
feeling between the Northern and Southern sections of the Union
was lacking in the cordiality which was necessary to the welfare
of both. Hawaii had asked for annexation and had been rejected
by the preceding administration. There was a state of things in
the Caribbean which could not permanently endure. Our
neighbor's house was on fire, and there were grave doubts as to
our rights and duties in the premises. A man either weak or
rash, either irresolute or headstrong, might have brought ruin
on himself and incalculable harm to the country.
The least desirable form of glory to a man of his habitual mood
and temper — that of successful war — was nevertheless conferred
upon him by uncontrollable events. He felt it must come; he
deplored its necessity; he strained almost to breaking his rela-
tions with his friends, in order, first to prevent and then to post-
pone it to the latest possible moment. But when the die was
cast, he labored with the utmost energy and ardor, and with an
APPENDICES 447
intelligence in military matters which showed how much of the
soldier still survived in the mature statesman, to push forward
the war to a decisive close. War was an anguish to him; he
wanted it short and conclusive. His merciful zeal communicated
itself to his subordinates, and the war, so long dreaded, whose
consequences were so momentous, ended in a hundred days.
Mr. McKinley was reelected by an overwhelming majority.
There had been little doubt of the result among well-informed
people, but when it was known, a profound feeling of relief and
renewal of trust were evident among the leaders of capital and
industry, not only in this country, but everywhere. They felt
that the immediate future was secure, and that trade and com-
merce might safely push forward in every field of effort and
enterprise.
He felt that the harvest time was come, to gamer in the fruits
of so much planting and culture, and he was determined that
nothing he might do or say should be liable to the reproach of a
gersonal interest. Let us say frankly he was a party man; he
elieved the policies advocated by him and his friends counted
for much in the country's progress and prosperity. He hoped
in his second term to accomplish substantial results in the de-
velopment and affirmation of those policies. I spent a day with
him shortly before he started on his fateful journey to Buffalo.
Never had I seen him higher in hope and patriotic confidence.
He was gratified to the heart that we had arranged a treaty
which gave us a free hand in the Isthmus. In fancy he saw the
canal already built and the argosies of the world passing through
it in peace and amity. He saw in the immense evolution of
American trade the fulfilment of all his dreams, the reward of
all his labors. He was, I need not say, an ardent protectionist,
never more sincere and devoted than during those last days of
his life. He regarded reciprocity as the bulwark of protection —
not a breach, but a fulfilment of the law. The treaties which
for four years had been preparing under his personal supervision
he regarded as ancillary to the general scheme. He was opposed
to any revolutionary plan of change in the existing legislation;
he was careful to point out that everything he had done was in
faithful compliance with the law itself.
In that mood of high hope, of generous expectation, he went
to Buffalo, and there, on the threshold of eternity, he delivered
that memorable speech, worthy for its loftiness of tone, its blame-
less morality, its breadth of view, to be regarded as his testament
to the nation. Through all his pride of country and his joy of its
success runs the note of solemn warning, as in Kipling's noble
hymn, "Lest We Forget."
The next day sped the bolt of doom, and for a week after — in
an agony of dread, broken by illusive glimpses of hope that our
prayers might be answered — the nation waited for the end.
448 THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
Nothing in the glorious life we saw gradually waning was more
admirable and exemplary than its close. The gentle himianity
of his words when he saw his assailant in danger of summary
vengeance, "Do not let them hurt him;" his chivalrous care
that the news should be broken gently to his wife; the fine
courtesy with which he apolopzed for the damage which his
death would bring to the great Exhibition; and the heroic resigna-
tion of his final words, "It is God's way; His will, not ours, be
done," were all the instinctive expressions of a nature so lofty
and so pure that pride in its nobility at once softened and en-
hanced the nation's sense of loss. The Republic grieved over
such a son, — ^but is proud forever of having produced him. After
all, in spite of its tragic ending, his life was extraordinarily happy.
He had, all his days, troops of friends, the cheer of fame and
fruitful labor; and he became at last,
"On fortune's crowning slope,
The pillar of a people s hope.
The center of a world's desire."
WILLIAM JENNINGS BRYAN
THE PRINCE OF PEACE *
(1894)
I oflFer no apology for speaking upon a religious theme, for it is
the most universal of all themes. I am interested in the science of
government, but I am interested more in religion than in govern-
ment. I enjoy making a political speech — I have made a good
many and shall make more — but I would rather speak on religion
than on politics. I commenced speaking on the stump when I
was only twenty, but I commenced speaking in the church six
years earlier — and I shall be in the church even after I am out
of politics. I feel sure of my ground when I make a political
speech, but I feel even more certain of my ground when I make
a religious speech. If I addrest you upon the subject of law I
might interest the lawyers; if I discust the science of medicine
I might interest the physicians; in like manner merchants might
be interested in comments on commerce, and farmers in matters
pertaining to agriculture; but no one of these subjects appeals
to all. Even the science of government, tho broader than any
profession or occupation, does not embrace the whole sum of life,
and those who think upon it differ so among themselves that I
could not speak upon the subject so as to please a part of the
audience without displeasing others. While to me the science
of government is intensely absorbing, I recognize that the most
^Uaed by permiaaion.
APPENDICES 449
important things in life lie outside of the realm of government
and that more depends upon what the individual does for himself
than upon what the government does or can do for him. Men
can be miserable under the best government and they can be
happy under the worst govemmnet.
Government aflFects but a part of the life which we live here
and does not deal at all with the life beyond, while religion
touches the infinite circle of existence as well as the small arc of
that circle which we spend on earth. No greater theme, there-
fore, can engage our attention. If I discuss questions of govern-
ment I must secure the cooperation of a majority before I can
put my ideas into practise, but if, in speaking on religion, I can
touch one human heart for good, I have not spoken in vain no
matter how large the majority may be against me.
Man is a religious being; the heart instinctively seeks for a
God. Whether he worships on the banks of the Ganges, prays
with his face upturned to the sun, kneels toward Mecca or,
regarding all space as a temple, communes with the Heavenly
Father according to the Christian creed, man is essentially devout.
There are honest doubters whose sincerity we recognize and
respect, but occasionally I find young men who think it smart
to be skeptical; they talk as if it were an evidence of larger in-
telligence to scoff at creeds and to refuse to connect themselves
with churches. They call themselves " Liberal," as if a Christian
were narrow minded. Some go so far as to assert that
the "advanced thought of the world" has discarded the idea
that there is a God. To these young men I desire to address
myself.
Even some older people profess to regard religion as a super-
stition, pardonable in the ignorant but unworthy of the educated.
Those who hold this view look down with mild contempt upon
such as give to religion a definite place in their thoughts and lives.
They assume an intellectual superiority and often take little
j>ains to conceal the assumption. Tolstoy administers to the
"cultured crowd" (the words quoted are his) a severe rebuke
when he declares that the religious sentiment rests not upon a
superstitious fear of the invisible forces of nature, but upon man's
consciousness of his finiteness amid an infinite universe and of
his sinfulness; and this consciousness, the great philosopher
adds, man can never outgrow. Tolstoy is right; man recognizes
how limited are his own powers and how vast is the universe,
and he leans upon the arm that is stronger than his. Man
feels the weight of his sins and looks for One who is sinless.
Religion has been defined by Tolstoy as the relation which
man fixes between himself and his God, and morality as the
outward manifestation of this inward relation. Every one, by
the time he reaches maturity, has fixt some relation between
himself and God and no material change in this relation can take
45© THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
place without a revolution in the man, for this relation is the
most potent influence that acts upon a human life.
Religion is the foundation of morality in the individual and
in the group of individuals. Materialists have attempted to
build up a system of morality upon the basis of enlightened self-
interest. They would have man figure out by mathematics that
it pays him to abstain from wrong-doing; they would even
inject an element of selfishness into altruism, but the moral
system elaborated by the materialists has several defects. First,
its virtues are borrowed from moral systems based upon religion.
All those who are intelligent enough to discuss a system of
morality are so saturated with the morals derived from systems
resting upon religion that they cannot frame a system resting
upon reason alone. Second, as it rests upon argument rather
than upon authority, the young are not in a position to accept
or reject. Our laws do not permit a young man to dispose of
real estate until he is twenty-one. Why this restraint? Because
his reason is not mature; and yet a man's life is largely moulded
by the environment of his youth. Third, one never knows just
how much of his decision is due to reason and how much is due
to passion or to selfish interest. Passion can dethrone the reason
— we recognize this in our criminal laws. We also recognize the
bias of self-interest when we exclude from the jury every man,
no matter how reasonable or upright he may be, who has a
pecuniary interest in the result of the trial. And, fourth, one
whose morality rests upon a nice calculation of benefits to be
secured spends time figuring that he should spend in action.
Those who keep a book account of their good deeds seldom do
enough good to justify keeping books. A noble life cannot be
built upon an arithmetic; it must be rather like the spring that
pours forth constantly of that which refreshes and invigorates.
Morality is the power of endurance in man; and a religion
which teaches personal responsibility to God gives strength to
morality. There is a powerful restraining influence in the belief
that an all-seeing eye scrutinizes every thought and word and
act of the individual.
There is wide difference between the man who is trying to
conform his life to a standard of morality about him and the man
who seeks to make his life approximate to a divine standard.
The former attempts to live up to the standard, if it is above him,
and down to it, if it is below him — and if he is doing right only
when others are looking he is sure to find a time when he thinks
he is unobserved, and then he takes a vacation and falls. One
needs the inner strength which comes with the conscious presence
of a personal God. If those who are thus fortified sometimes
jrield to temptation, how helpless and hopeless must those be
who rely upon their own strength alone!
There are difficulties to be encountered in religion, but there
APPENDICES 451
are difficulties to be encountered everywhere. If Christians
sometimes have doubts and fears, unbelievers have more doubts
and greater fears. I passed through a period of skepticism when
I was in college and I have been glad ever since that I became a
member of the church before I left home for college, for it helped
me during those trying days. And the college days cover the
dangerous period in the young man's life; he is just coming into
possession of his powers, and feels stronger than he ever feels
afterward — and he thinks he knows more than he ever does know.
It was at this period that I became confused by the different
theories of creation. But I examined these theories and found
that they all assumed something to begin with. You can test
this for yourselves. The nebular hypothesis, for instance,
assumes that matter and force existed — matter in particles
infinitely fine and each particle separated from every other
particle by space infinitely great. Beginning with this assump-
tion, force working on matter — according to this hypothesis —
created a universe. Well, I have a right to assume, and I prefer
to assume, a Designer back of the design — a Creator back of the
creation; and no matter how long you draw out the process of
creation, so long as God stands back of it you cannot shake my
faith in Jehovah. In Genesis it is written that, in the beginning,
God created the heavens and the earth, and I can stand on that
proposition until I find some theory of creation that goes farther
back than "the beginning." We must begin with something —
we mubt start somewhere — and the Christian begins with God.
I do not carry the doctrine of evolution as far as some do; I
am not yet convinced that man is a lineal descendant of the lower
animals. I do not mean to find fault with you if you want to
accept the theory; all I mean to say is that while you may trace
your ancestry back to the monkey if you find pleasure or pride
in doing so, you shall not connect me with your family tree with-
out more evidence than has yet been produced. I object to the
theory for several reasons. First, it is a dangerous theory. If a
man links himself in generations with the monkey, it then be-
comes an important question whether he is going toward him or
coming from him — and I have seen them going in both directions.
I do not know of any argument that can be used to prove that
man is an improved moni:ey that may not be used just as well
to prove that the monkey is a degenerate man, and the latter
theory is more plausible than the former.
It is true that man, in some physical characteristics resembles
the beast, but man has a mind as well as a body, and a soul as
well as a mind. The mind is greater than the body and the soul
is greater than the mind, and I object to having man's pedigree
traced on one-third of him only — and that the lowest third.
Fairbaim, in his " Philosophy of Christianity," lays down a sound
proposition when he says that it is not sufficient to explain man as
45^ THE ART OF PUBLIC SPEAKING
an animal; that it is necessary to explain man in history — and
the Darwinian theory does not do this. The ape, according to
this theory, is older than man and yet the ape is still an ape
while man is the author of the marvelous civilization which we
see about us.
One does not escape from mystery, however, by accepting this
theory, for it does not explain the origin of life. When the fol-
lower of Darwin has traced the germ of life back to the lowest
form in which it appears — and to follow him one must exercise
more faith than religion calls for — he finds that scientists differ.
Those who reject the idea of creation are divided into two schools,
some believing that the first germ of life came from another
planet and others holding that it was the result of spontaneous
generation. Each school answers the arguments advanced by
the other, and as they cannot agree with each other, I am not
compelled to agree with either.
If I were compelled to accept one of these theories I would
prefer the first, for if we can chase the germ of life off this planet
and get it out into space we can guess the rest of the way and
no one can contradict us, but if we accept the doctrine of spon-
taneous generation we cannot explain why spontaneous genera-
tion ceased to act after the first germ was created.
Go back as far as we may, we cannot escape from the creative
act, and it is just as easy for me to believe that God created man
as he is as to believe that, millions of years ago. He created a
germ of life and endowed it with power to develop into all that
we see to-day. I object to the Darwinian theory, until more
conclusive proof is produced, because I fear we shall lose the
consciousness of God's presence in our daily life, if we must accept
the theory that through all the ages no spiritual force has touched
the life of man or shaped the destiny of nations.
But there is another objection. The Darwinian theory repre-
sents man as reaching his present perfection by the operation of
the law of hate — the merciless law by which the strong crowd out
and kill off the weak. If this is the law of our development then,
if there is any logic that can bind the human mind, we shall turn
backward toward the beast in proportion as we substitute the
law of love. I prefer to believe that love rather than hatred is
the law of development. How can hatred be the law of develop-
ment when nations have advanced in proportion as they have
departed from that law and adopted the law of love?
But, I repeat, while I do not accept the Darwinian theory I
shall not quarrel with you about it; I only refer to it to remind
you that it does not solve the mystery of life or explain human
progress. I fear that some have accepted it in the hope of escap-
mg from the miracle, but why should the miracle frighten us?
And yet I am inclined to think that it is one of the test questions
with the Christian.
APPENDICES 453
Christ cannot be separated from the miraculous; His birth,
His ministrations, and His resurrection, all involve the miracu-
lous, and the change which His religion works in the human heart
is a continuing miracle. Eliminate the miracles and Christ
becomes merely a human being and His gospel is stript of divine
authority